Hermione's Proposal
by Soul93
Summary: When Hermione called him asking for a favor, his stupid reply had been, "Sure 'Mione anything," and apparently anything meant pretending to be her husband for a week...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** This takes place roughly a few years after the 7th book only I killed the epilogue (wish I could unread it) and this was born instead. POV's alternate between Harry and Hermione. Also there is fluff here, so you've been warned.

A special thanks to **Spinnning Round a Carousel **who went over this chapter and fixed it up.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the Harry Potter books, also the idea is from one of the funniest romance books I've ever read- her hired husband by Renee Roszel. I don't own that book either and any references to it nor am I making any money from this.

HRH

When Ginny dumped him, her main reason had been that redundant excuse that people use to end relationships: 'it's not you, it's me'. This was, of course, to spare the dumped person's feelings - only it seldom ever did. The worst part was that it wasn't Ginny. She was actually a great girlfriend; as long as you didn't expect her to cook, she was terrific. It was him and his obsessive nature that doom was always just around the corner, that really put the nail on the coffin of their four year old on-and-off romance.

He couldn't help it, and no, he didn't think that sleeping with his wand under his pillow was paranoid. It was just a reaction to being hunted by a mad psychopath from birth until his late teens. He'd even tried seeing a psychiatrist, but when she'd diagnosed him with early onset dementia, he'd never returned.

Harry was a lot of things - obsessive, impulsive, courageous -but he wasn't crazy. If anything, he probably suffered from heroic syndrome, if such a thing existed, which caused a young teenage boy to act rather impulsively all for the greater good.

Glaring at his reflection in the mirror, he concluded he could now also add alcoholic to his extensive résumé. At the time, binge drinking had seemed such a swell idea, but now, with is eyes bloodshot and his head still pounding, he was forced to reconsider.

It was times like this that he really missed Hermione. She'd probably have some spell to cure his hangover, while listing all the reasons why drinking was wrong. Ah, his dear friend Hermione- the reason that he was awake at 9am on a Tuesday, shaving the stubble that he'd considered growing into a beard. When she'd called him asking for a favour, his stupid reply had been, "Sure 'Mione, anything."

Apparently, anything also included playing her fake husband for the next week. He was actually puzzled as to why Hermione would even need a fake husband, but she did promise to tell him everything once he got to her house so he'd find out soon enough. Well, provided he didn't die from his massive headache first.

Even if he had wanted to, he couldn't get out of it. Hermione was his closest friend next to Ron, plus, after her break up with Ron early last year, he felt it would be his friendly duty to help her out. Poor thing was still probably a wreck, trying to keep it together.

Besides, it was just pretend and it wasn't like he had a job that needed his attention. Professional Quidditch had been exciting at first, but had unfortunately lost his lustre when it no longer proved to be challenging. His stint as an Auror had been cut short when it turned out that though brilliant, he was slightly unstable. Fortunately for him, he actually had a large inheritance to fall back on or he'd be stuck in some stifling office or working a job he hated like Ron.

Harry washed away the residue of the shaving cream, although unfortunately nothing could be done for his eyes. He padded back into his room and with a wave of his wand, he dressed himself in slacks and a shirt; it wouldn't do to enter the Muggle world dressed in his robes. Merlin forbid someone confused him for a monk - or worse, a cult leader.

His bag was already packed and he'd informed his housekeeper, Miss Quick, of his trip. Now he was just stalling, a part of him even wishing that some sort of crisis would erupt and he'd be needed. Heck, he wouldn't even mind a little row with Voldy right now, especially since it had been proven that he could kick his ass. But Voldemort was dead...

So with a heavy sigh, he checked his watch and resigned himself to the fact that he had to get going. Hermione had insisted that he get there before ten and it was already five to ten. _Come on Potter, stop stalling, how hard can this be anyway?_ He thought, readying himself before he Apparated.

/

Harry pressed the doorbell again, moving his luggage from one hand to the other as he waited patiently for Hermione to answer the door. He'd tried to smooth his hair, but alas, it remained the one villain he could never conquer. He heard the sound of feet heading towards the door and straightened up when it swung open.

"You're late," Hermione said, stepping aside for him to enter. Harry didn't move. His mouth was slightly agape and his feet had forgotten how to work. "Well, are you just going to stand there?"

Slowly, he began to awaken from his trance-like state and walked over the threshold.

"Hermione, you're pregnant?" he spluttered, his eyes glued to her protruding belly that was covered by a golf shirt. It sounded more like a question then a statement, yet from the rounded stomach, it was safe to say that she was at least in her second trimester.

"Yes, you sound surprised," Hermione answered breezily, closing the door behind him.

Surprised? He was shocked! "How did this happen?" he asked, baffled. He mentally counted the months since her break up from Ron – ten, eleven months ago? He wasn't really certain, but from his calculations, that would exempt the redhead from being the father.

Hermione glared at him. "You really want me to explain the birds and bees to you, Harry?" she asked warily.

"No it's just... I..." His voice trailed off.

"What, you can't have a baby unless you're in a relationship?" she asked with a frown. Harry realised he was entering forbidden ground, and decided to nip it in the bud before Hermione hexed him or worse.

"No, of course not," he said hurriedly, trying to smooth things over. "Is that why you want me to play your fake husband?"

Hermione sighed and told him to follow her to the kitchen. "Yes, and I know it's unethical, but my grandparents are coming for a visit," she explained, going to stand by the counter.

"You have grandparents?" Hermione gave him a look. "I mean, of course you do... You just never mentioned them before," he added quickly.

"That's because their judgemental, uppity snobs," Hermione said through gritted teeth, "and frankly, I don't want to explain why I'm pregnant and single."

So she was single. Yet Hermione didn't seem like the one night stand type, or maybe in a drunken stupor some jerk had taken advantage of her? The thought made him angry - though he was one of those jerks who sometimes preyed on innocent drunk women in pubs.

"But Hermione, you've achieved so many things as a witch and a Muggle - why should their approval mean so much to you?" he asked, confused.

Hermione was the one person he knew who never let other people's opinions influence her, so Harry was surprised that she'd go to such extreme lengths for grandparents she obviously didn't even like.

"I don't," she said curtly, then paused for a moment. "It's difficult to explain. I'm just asking you to do me this one favour. Can you, Harry?" she asked, her eyes looking big and hopeful. Inwardly, Harry groaned because he knew he could never deny Hermione anything.

"Of course. Just tell me what you want me to do," he said with a reassuring smile.

Hermione smiled for the first time since she opened the door and Harry couldn't help note that she was positively glowing and beautiful. _Erm, hold it right there, Potter! Positively glowing and beautiful? This is Hermione! And she's pregnant, for Merlin's sake!_ He mentally berated himself.

"Thank you, Harry!" she gushed, then hugged him. This wasn't quite an easy feat with her belly, but Harry patted her back comfortingly, trying to ignore the wonderful smell of lavender that wafted to his nose.

_Did Hermione always smell this good?_ he wondered vaguely.

"No problem, Hermione. So how are we going to go about this?" Harry asked, ignoring the flutter in his stomach when Hermione stepped back and smiled up at him. He would have sworn on his life that Hermione once had buck teeth, but either they were gone or she grew into them, because she flashed him a dazzling smile.

"Well, thankfully we already know each other, so all we have to work on is when we got married," Hermione said with a shrug.

He nodded, then thought of something, "Should we tell Ron, or...?" He trailed off, not sure if that was something she'd want to discuss with him, what with him also being Ron's best friend.

Hermione shrugged. "Whatever you feel is best, though the less people know the better," she replied, sinking into a bar stool, "Since it's temporary and all."

Harry nodded. She was right; besides her grandparents were Muggles, and most of their friends wizards, the chances of them crossing paths were one in a million. "Nah, you're right," he agreed.

"So, where can I put my bag?" he asked.

"My bedroom."

"Your _what_?" Harry asked, eyes widening slightly, causing him to have to push back his glasses.

"Well, Harry, we'll be a happy married couple, so it makes sense that we would share a bedroom," she explained in a voice that she no doubt used on students when they asked her stupid questions.

"Of course, I'm just- I'm new to this," he said with a nervous chuckle. "Your room is upstairs, last one down the corridor, right?" he asked, turning to leave.

"Yes, and Harry?"

He paused in the doorway, his eyebrows raised in question.

"Have you been drinking?" she asked.

He tried to lie, but Hermione was like Professor McGonagall; he never quite could lie to her, so he said the next best thing to the truth. "It was a onetime thing," he replied, and when she gave him a sceptical look, he added rather lamely, "That occurred more than once, but I have it completely under control. Wouldn't want your grandparents thinking I'm a deadbeat dad," he tried to joke.

A silence followed his words so he decided that he should go, but Hermione stopped him again.

"Harry?" she began uneasily.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. I know I'm asking a lot, but you were the only person I could really trust," she said, wringing her hands.

Harry walked back to her, dropped his bag to his feet, and placed his hands on her shoulders. "It's really no problem, 'Mione. It's what friends do," he said.

Then he did something completely stupid.

He kissed her.

In his defence, he'd only meant to place a kiss on her cheek –but at the exact moment Hermione decided to turn her head. She stared back at him with surprise on her face and he mumbled an apology before grabbing his bag and practically running up the stairs.

Once he reached the landing, Harry groaned. He could have prevented the whole accidental kiss turning awkward if he hadn't run out the kitchen like a guilty boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. _So much for being a suave bachelor,_ he thought dryly.

/

Hermione sat frozen, her lips slightly parted. She was still completely shocked that Harry, her best friend, had kissed her. Technically, he hadn't meant to, but he had by accident - and though there was no tongue involved, it hadn't been a bad kiss as kisses went.

_Okay, hold it right there, Granger! Where the hell did that crazy thought come from? _she wondered, shaking her head to clear the cobwebs. Harry was her friend, and was doing her a favour he clearly didn't want to be doing- but because he was Harry, he agreed to it. So she shouldn't start jumping the gun.

Her doctor had warned her that her hormones might go haywire, and apparently they had if she was even thinking of Harry that way. Yet she'd be lying if she didn't admit that she had noticed how the years of Quidditch had done his body a favour. He really had grown into something some woman_ who was not his best friend and pregnant_ would appreciate.

And then the whole 'he should wear contacts thing' some women always went on about... Well, Hermione disagreed. The whole nerd-slash-completely-buff-god look really worked for Harry. Not that she noticed or anything.

Hermione finally stood up, placing a hand on her belly. She just had to remember that this was all a charade that would last a week at most. Thank Merlin that crush she'd developed on Harry in their 4th year had died a quiet death. It would be incredibly awkward right now.

"I shoved my bag in your trunk," Harry said, re-entering the kitchen, looking more collected. "You kept that thing?"

"Well, during my first years teaching at Hogwarts, I still used it," Hermione said, moving to the cabinets to take out the necessary ingredients to make dinner.

"Oh right," Harry said. "So, what you making for dinner?"

Hermione paused and glanced over her shoulder at him. "How does lasagne sound?" she asked.

"Sounds like food," Harry joked. "Haven't had a home cooked meal in a while so anything actually cooked and not microwaved sounds great to me."

"Lasagne it is then," Hermione said, turning back to the task at hand. She wondered why talking to Harry suddenly seemed so difficult. They'd been friends for such a long time; surely there was something they could talk about that had nothing to do with Voldemort and his insane plans to kill Harry?

"Need a hand?" Harry asked, though he was already walking up to her.

"You can cook?"

"Hermione, I spent the better part of my life as the Dursley's personal-chef-slash-housekeeper. I know my way around the kitchen," he answered, rolling his eyes.

Of course he did. She'd just assumed that like Ron, who didn't know a pot from a pan, Harry would be helpless in the kitchen. "Well then, can you prepare the sauce?" she asked, pouring the pasta into a pot.

"Apparently, you don't know this, but I'm a whiz in the kitchen," Harry said, throwing her a playful wink.

And just like that, the unease between them seemed to melt away. It was like old times again – well, when they weren't busy thinking whether or not they'd all be alive for their Seventh Year at Hogwarts. In companionable silence, they began to cook and after a while it was Harry who broke it.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad we're doing this."

It could refer to their situation or to the cooking, but Hermione didn't really care much for particulars at that moment.

"Me too, Harry," she said.

**End Note:** I'm aware Hermione had her teeth fixed for the Yule Ball, but I don't have the heart to change Harry's thought here.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note:** A Huge thank you to the following readers **You-Know-Who**, , **Celestia's Paladin**, **starboy454**, **john**, **pawsrule**, **Voldy-shorts**, **dragonshaun9**, **anon**, **th9tdud3**, **XHush-HushX**, **Chuffi4Harmony**, **MissEleanor1687** and **Lyra Aquila** for taking the time to leave wonderful reviews!

So some of you were wondering about who's Hermione's baby daddy- rest assured I'm a diehard HHR fan so I have it all worked out and everything will be explained eventually.

I was real reluctant to post this because I wasn't too happy about it, but it needed to be written so just bare with me.

HRH

He wasn't snooping around, no that would mean he was secretly looking for something he had no business looking for- which of course he wasn't doing. If anything he was curious and Hermione's bedroom was the vocal point of his curiosity. Besides how else was he supposed to pass the time while Hermione took a quick shower?

Straining his ears for the sound of the running shower he made his way to her dresser. Random cosmetics and oddly enough some quills as well were littered on the surface. He picked up a small purple bottle, debated on whether to sniff it or not then thought how creepy that would look so he placed it back down. Maybe there was a part of him, that had been a successful Auror before he screwed it up, that hoped somewhere in this room he'd find something.

Something like how the hell was Hermione pregnant and single? Harry wasn't a judgmental person in any standards but this was Hermione. The girl who had her entire future panned out at age eleven. He seriously doubted she'd tagged 25 with pregnant and single. Yet she'd been rather tight lipped and vague about it. He had been wrecking his brain about how this could have happened, the obvious answer the one even Hermione had hinted at was that she'd had sex with someone but he was unwilling to accept that one. He was even more inclined towards the idea that it was the work of some divinity, maybe the next coming of Christ.

"Had no idea you had a penchant for lipstick," Hermione said her voice tinged with amusement as she came out the bathroom now dressed in slacks and a baby doll tee.

"I don't," he said quickly then realised he held a tube of lipstick in his hand, "just your lipstick I guess," he added sheepishly.

Hermione gave him a queer smile before shaking her head, "That reminds me," she started as she reached around him for a jewellery chest before lifting two gold bands, "Wouldn't seem like a real marriage if we didn't wear these," she joked.

He almost asked why she was even in possession of them before he remembered that it must have been her parents, "No it wouldn't'," he agreed accepting the gold band and was surprised when it actually fit.

"A charm," Hermione explained also slipping on hers.

"Wait a second," Harry said an idea coming to mind before he muttered a quick summoning spell, "I think it would be more convincing if you also wore this," he said offering her the ring.

Hermione's eyes widened, "Harry I couldn't," she started shaking her head.

"Yes you can and you will," He insisted with a smile.

He'd always imagined that the first woman who'd wear his mother's ring would be Ginny yet it just seemed right for this moment.

"I'll take good care of it," Hermione promised just as the sound of the doorbell ringing reached them, "They're here,"

If she'd said 'we are about to die' she couldn't have used more emotion.

"Well let's not keep them waiting," he said trying to be cheerfully hoping to lessen the stricken look on Hermione's face.

The walk to the front door seemed to take ages rather than the short three minute walk.

"I think I'll wait in the kitchen," Hermione said suddenly.

"They're your grandparents," he reminded her but then Hermione gave him that pleading look again and with a sigh he nodded, "fine I'll just-"

She didn't even wait for him to finish before ducking into the kitchen, shaking his head Harry tried to smooth his hair again, but when it proved futile he heaved a sigh before straightening up and opening the door, "He-"

"On guard!"

Of all the things he expected when he swung the door open, a sword tip to the neck wasn't one of them. A sharp tip at that.

"William put that down, before you hurt yourself," a woman chided her mouth turned into a disapproving frown towards the short portly man next to her.

The man William puffed, sword still raised at Harry, "Don't you mean before I hurt the lad, Vivian?" he asked with a strong Irish brogue.

"No before you hurt yourself," Vivian stated dryly before her narrowed gaze turned to Harry, "And who are you?" she asked him, eyeing him up and down.

While William was short and slightly round, Vivian was tall and lithe and for a moment they reminded Harry of his uncle and aunt. If Vernon and Petunia were perhaps richer and older that is.

Taking a cautious step back from the sword, Harry cleared his voice, "Harry Potter, Hermione's husband," he replied hoping his nervous smile was convincing.

"Who's Hermione?" William asked his wife.

Vivian sighed pushing Harry aside as she walked in, "Hermione is our granddaughter, William. I swear nothing but coins and bills make sense to you," she said warily her eyes glancing around the room.

William thankfully tucked his sword into its sheath before speaking, "We have a poor granddaughter?" he asked incredulous.

"We aren't actually poor," Harry said before Vivian shot him a look and decided maybe he should just keep his mouth shut until Hermione came. Yet there were still no signs of his wife…

"Could you be a dear and get the bags Henry?" Vivian asked though Harry had a feeling it was more a command then a request.

"It's Harry,"

"That's lovely, now the bags," she said waving him off.

Harry sighed this was going to be a real long week. He thought as he went to retrieve the luggage.

/

The tension in the room could be sliced through with a thick knife okay forget the knife to cut through this tension you'd probably need an axe- Hagrid's axe.

Harry's gaze went from Hermione who'd hardly touched her plate, to her grandparents who sat stiffly glaring at the lasagne like something would jump out at any given moment.

Vaguely he wondered how he always managed to get himself dragged into crazy situations. Aside popular belief that he enjoyed it, he really didn't. Behind the scar, spellbinding wizard skills and his rugged good looks he was really just a modest guy who enjoyed the simple things in life. Then again who was he kidding? He thrived on crazy.

And when the silence continued to drag on for another good minute and he was sure he was about to go stir crazy Vivian spoke, "What is it you do exactly Henry?" she asked him her eyes narrowed in suspicion, "besides impregnating young women who had prospective futures,"

Harry glanced at Hermione, they had not covered this in their fabrication. She gave him a look that told him to just go with it and he reckons he would have come up with something debonair had his thoughts not wandered to his Auror days, "A detective," was the reply.

"Is that even a real job?" Vivian asked incredulous.

"Don't you volunteer to do that?" William inquired with a frown.

Harry coughed into his hand to cover the chuckle that had threatened to erupt. There was no way Hermione could be related to these people, if anything he felt Vivian and William were more likely Malfoy's grandparents.

"No, it's a real job with real people," he added even when Hermione gave him a discreet poke under the table.

"Let's hope it has a real income too," Vivian scoffed then pushed her plate away, "After the meal we had on the flight we possibly couldn't take another bite,"

William nodded his agreement, "In fact I think I'm ready to call it a night," he stated.

"Will you show them to their room love?" Harry asked Hermione who had remained silent throughout; though he could have sworn once or twice he heard her mumbling one of the unforgivable curses.

"Of course," she answered though she didn't look the least happy about it.

"I'll clear up then,"

"You don't have a maid?" Vivian asked as if the idea itself was ridiculous.

Rather than get into a long explanation he decided to play along, "Good help is so hard to find these days," he said.

"So is peace of mind," he heard Hermione mutter under her breath.

"True our own housekeeper can't be trusted alone," Vivian agreed.

"She's a magician that one," William said, "Makes good China disappear,"

"Not a very good one if you're still here," Hermione mumbled as she led them out.

/

"That went well," Harry said later as he stepped out the bathroom.

Hermione who lay on her bed, head buried under the covers groaned, "Well?" she asked head peeking out, "Harry they barely touched the food, you could have sworn they thought something would jump out the plate and eat them!"

"Vivian said they ate on the flight over," he offered running a hand through his hair.

Hermione snorted, "I'm sure they did," she muttered burying her face again.

"Come one 'Mione aside from that I actually thought they weren't so bad- comical even," he'd meant to soothe her but from the glare that came flying his way he obviously hadn't.

"That's because you've only been around them a few hours!" she snapped, "You have no idea how condescending, snobbish and vile they really are!"

Seeing that her anger might be turned against him he quickly tried to smooth things over, "You're right that William and his sword not to mention that Vivian now she was just the worst," he frowned for emphasis.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth as if to say something then blurted out, "For Merlin's sake Harry could you at least finish dressing?"

"Finish dressing?" he asked confused glancing at the boxer shorts he'd donned for bed.

"Well surely that is not what you wear to bed?"

Harry cocked a grin, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts, "Actually 'Mione that would require me taking these off," he said the hidden meaning clear.

It was meant as a joke the 'hahaha' kind but when Hermione turned a crimson shade stunned into silence he inwardly groaned. What the hell was wrong with him? Flirting had never been their thing, yet if he wasn't kissing her he was making lewd suggestions.

"Forget I said that," he said in a rush, "I'm sure I can find a shirt or something-"

"No it's okay Harry," Hermione said seeming to be capable of speech again, "honest," she added when he looked hesitant.

"Okay then, should I turn the lights off?" he asked

Hermione fluffed her pillows and once she was satisfied she was comfortable nodded. Harry padded over to the switch and flicked it off before getting himself settled into the bed. He had every intention to fall asleep only for some reason he suddenly felt alert. Next to him he could hear Hermione's even breathing, but he doubted she was asleep yet.

"Hermione are you asleep?" he whispered. For a moment he thought she wasn't going to reply, "Yes, Harry,"

"Okay goodnight then," he said.

"Night Harry,"

"Sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs-"

"Night Harry," this time she said it more firmly cutting him off. She used the end of discussion tone.

There was a long silence that followed with Harry staring at the ceiling, "You never mentioned having an Irish heritage," he mused wondering why he was obviously looking for a death wish.

There was some shuffling as Hermione turned to regard him in the dark, he couldn't be sure but he had an inkling she wasn't amused.

"I'll just shut up now," he said softly.

"I don't have an Irish heritage," Hermione stated.

"But your grandfather-"

"He is not Irish, delusional maybe but definitely not Irish," she replied.

"I thought I knew everything about you," Harry started with wonderment, "but I don't,"

"You make that sound like a bad thing,"

"It isn't, it's like we're getting to know each other all over again,"

Hermione chuckled, "Just no crazy life threatening situations this time around," she warned.

Harry smiled, "Wouldn't dream of it," he assured her.

"I was actually surprised you agreed to this," Hermione began.

"Why?" Harry asked not bothering to mention that for someone who'd been against conversation she was suddenly very chatty.

"Well with your relationship to Ginny, I don't think I'd like it much if my boyfriend was playing house with another woman even if that woman was like a sister to him," she answered.

Harry arched his eyebrow glad Hermione couldn't see the look on his face, he under no circumstances thought of her as a sister, "Ginny and I are over," he said instead.

"As in your taking a break?"

"As in this is the end," He said warily, it was disappointing to think a relationship he'd invested so much in was over, but it was. They were just two different people and maybe if things had been different they would have wound up happily married with three kids in 18 years time, only things weren't, "How about you and Ron, I'd thought you'd guys would have patched things up by now,"

"At first I thought so too, but well things changed," Hermione stated.

Like an unplanned pregnancy. Harry thought.

"At least we have each other right?"

"Right,"

**A/N: **I will be adding the other characters soon just had to get the basis of the story out.

Hope I still have readers for this, ones who are just dying to review so as always reviews are appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note:** I've resigned myself to the many alerts and faves- though a bit disappointed most readers omit from reviewing, which is actually the part an author hopes for.

A special thanks to all my reviewers! I truly appreciate it and it truly gets me going when I'm staring at a blank document page. You guys are real awesome, and for your awesomeness a faster update (well then the last...)!

**Disclaimer:** "Kidnapping is such a horrible word, I prefer the term surprise 'adoption'," I honestly don't know who it belongs to, but it's not mine. Couldn't find a direct source from Google so if anyone knows I'd be grateful for the Info.

HRH

There were tiny sharp knives in Hermione's mattress. Harry was certain of it, because how else could he explain the restless sleep he'd had to endure? He'd spent the better half of his night counting Hermione's even breathes, his bed mate seemingly unaffected, while he couldn't even get a single wink.

And when he was sure he was about to drift off to sleep Hermione's hand would all so carelessly drape itself over his chest as if to further torment him. If not for the fact that he knew her to be sound asleep he'd think she was having him on, playing some trick on him.

So it was with great relief when the sun came out and he could end his failing attempts at sleep and get up. Checking the time he noted it was still relatively early so Vivian and William were probably still asleep too.

Glancing to make sure Hermione was still asleep after he'd slipped out of bed he realised he shouldn't have bothered, if anything she looked even more peaceful- it wouldn't have killed her to have stirred even the slightest. Harry thought with a scowl.

Though it wasn't Hermione's fault her hands had taken liberties which Harry hadn't minded all that much.

He grabbed a pair of jeans slipping them on, decided to forgo a shirt before making his way quietly to the kitchen. He was rather surprised when he walked in to find Vivian perched at the kitchen table a mug of coffee in her hand and a frown on her face.

For a moment he felt awkward standing there at the door, contemplating what to say, "Morning, Vi-"

"Grandmother will do," she said cutting him off with a wave of her hand.

"Morning Grandmother, did you sleep well?" he asked making an effort to make his voice sound cheerful.

"Do I look like I slept well?" the old woman asked shrewdly.

You look like you crashed into a tree during a rainstorm, Harry thought but refrained from saying, "Was there something that deterred your sleep?" he inquired, perhaps sharp knives in the mattress? He thought warily.

"As a matter of fact yes,' Vivian replied, "This house is covered in dust, I nearly suffocated in my sleep, my power William could be dead as we speak!"

Harry blinked glancing around the room, personally he thought Hermione's house was squeaky clean. In fact he thought it was unnatural and had been hankering to have a talk about it with her. As far as he was concerned a little disorder some dust here and there gave a house character. In fact regardless of Mrs Quick's zealous efforts his own home was just teeming with character.

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad?"

"You're right it was worse!" Viviane exclaimed rising from her seat, "In fact I think today me and my granddaughter should air this place out a bit,"

"Isn't forcing a heavily pregnant lady into hard work a health hazard?" Harry asked incredulous.

"So is burying your guest under layers and layers of dust," Vivian responded, "Or does hospitality no longer rest with the younger generation?"

Harry had a feeling this whole Hermione and Grandma cleaning duo would not end well. For one, he figured Hermione uses magic to clean up her place and secondly Hermione hated being bossed around. He felt bad for her.

Then he remembered how Hermione used to harass him and Ron during their school years, sure it was so they'd pass, but she could have been much sweeter about it, right?

"You know Grandmother, I think that might actually be a good idea," he began hoping and praying Hermione would never find out he played a part in this, but she had been the cause for his sleepless night. Harry reasoned before adding, "Why just last night she was talking of needing more air around,"

If Vivian was suspicious of his rapid turnaround she didn't show it, "Good this will give you time to bond with William," she said.

Harry's eyes bulged, William? Crazy-sword-to-the-neck-William? He was ready to make up an excuse but Vivian spoke before him, "I think it would mean a great deal to him, after all it was quite a surprise for us to find out we had a grandson in law we've never met," she stated her disapproval clear.

"Of course," Harry said with a strained smile.

He was certain he saw a smirk fleet for a second over Vivian's face but it was so quick he couldn't be sure.

"Good then," Vivian nodded before she made her way out. Dismayed Harry slumped against the counter. It seemed every time he thought time was passing, this week just dragged on.

With nothing better to do and the grim prospect of spending a day with William, he figured he could pass the time making breakfast. He was no Jamie Oliver but he did know his way around a kitchen.

Resolved Harry walked to the fridge surveying its contents and grabbing what he'd need to make a decent breakfast. Hermione might even find it a treat if he brought her breakfast in bed, isn't that what all dotting husbands would do?

Never mind he'd never even done that for his long term girlfriend. No wonder he was single, Ginny probably thought him a horrible boyfriend. But in his defence it was hard working on charm and his courting skills when he hadn't even been certain he'd see eighteen.

Placing the contents on the table, Harry pulled out his wand. He knew it was probably risky but he used some magic to speed up the process, getting the eggs done and was about to embark on the sausages when a voice spoke up behind him.

"A girl could get used to this,"

Harry spun around taken by surprise, a lithe woman with a severe black cropped bob stood appraising him, "Who are you?" he asked suddenly feeling self conscious in his pants and shirtless state.

Did no one in the Muggle world sleep anymore? He wondered exasperated.

"A friend of Hermione's... you?" she asked cocking an eyebrow at him.

"A friend of Hermione's too," he replied deciding that two could play that game.

The woman smirked sauntering towards him, "Well any friend of Hermione is a friend of mine," she said her voice dripping with innuendo, "Gretchen Storm by the way," she added her hand outstretched for a handshake.

"Harry," he said shaking her hand.

"Wait a second you wouldn't perhaps be the Harry-" her sentence was cut short when a magazine went flying just over her head, "What the hell?"

"Gretchen, what a surprise!" Hermione exclaimed a huge smile spread over her face as she suddenly appeared from the doorway, "I didn't see you there,"

Harry hadn't even heard Hermione coming and he wondered if she'd Apparated, those stairs were a hassle, never mind if you had to carry some extra weight.

"Should I be relieved you didn't know who I was before you nearly decapitated me by paper cut?" the other woman bristled glaring at Hermione.

Hermione chuckled though Harry noted how nervous she seemed, "Of course not, Gretch is such a jester, Harry," she said with a smile.

"Yes, that's me Bono the clown," Gretchen deadpanned.

Harry wasn't sure whether it was his imagination or not, but he could have sworn there was a silent look that passed between the two women, feeling awkward he decided to break the tension, "So Gretchen here was telling me she was a friend of yours?" he asked addressing Hermione.

He noted enviously that Hermione looked like she'd had a peaceful night sleep unlike his count down until down. If anything she looked even better than she did yesterday...the least she could have done was pretend she was tired. He thought.

"Yep, when I moved in here, Gretch moved into my kitchen and never left," Hermione replied with a smile.

"What can I say, Hermione is the only woman I know who has milk all year round," Gretchen said wrinkling her nose, "So do you have milk?"

"Check the fridge," Hermione said pointing in the fridge's direction.

"So Harry... are you always this bare-chested?" Gretchen asked pulling out the milk from the fridge a grin on her face.

"Are you always this charming?" Harry asked.

She laughed, going to stand next to Hermione, "I like this one, let's keep him," she said.

"I don't know Gretch, do you think we can tame him?" Hermione asked her eyes twinkling as she pretended to mull the decision over.

"Maybe, I've been known to be a man-whisperer," Gretchen said giving Harry a playful wink, "But from the looks of this breakfast I'd say my skills are rubbing off you, Herms,"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Could you two stop looking at me like I'm desert?" he asked playfully.

"I love cake!"

"Gretchen seriously," Hermione chided her friend rolling her eyes, "Just yesterday you were plotting on kidnapping that poor Gyno,"

"Kidnapping is such a horrible word, I prefer the term surprise 'adoption'," Gretchen said with a grin, "Plus if a certain witch would help me with my love potion Mr-Sex-In-a-white coat would come willingly,"

Harry raised an eyebrow at Hermione, "She knows you're a witch?" he asked.

"Well not to put myself out there, but I too am a witch," Gretchen said modestly while dusting off imaginary flint from her dress.

"No you're not," Hermione scoffed then turning to Harry, "Gretchen thinks because she's watched Charmed she qualifies to be a witch,"

"Excuse you, I two got a letter from Hopscotch or whatever that school of yours is," Gretchen said indignantly.

"Finding a dead owl, four blocks away from your house, mind you a month after your birthday doesn't mean you're a witch," Hermione said rolling her eyes.

"You're just jealous I don't need a stick to cast a spell," Gretchen said with a sniff.

"Tech-"

"Henry!"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Coming grandmother!" he called back in a cheerful voice, and when Hermione gave him an odd look he quickly added, "She probably wants something," he said sheepishly.

"Grandmother, since when have you too become such budding mates?" Hermione asked with a frown.

Fearing that Hermione might find like he was favouring his grandparents over her, he quickly tried to reassure her, "She asked me to call her that this morning," he replied by way of explanation.

"I'm her granddaughter by blood and she only extended that gesture when I was eight!"

"I guess you just don't have the Potter charm," Harry teased with a grin.

Hermione scowled at him, "Well you just-"

"Come now sugarplum jealousy doesn't bode well for you," Harry said teasingly brushing his lips lightly over her lips and laying a hand on her stomach before heading out.

/

Hermione was trying to avoid Gretchen's look, knowing she'd probably turned beetroot from Harry's harmless show of affection.

"Do they make them all like that at Hopscotch?" Gretchen asked, "Because letter or not I'm enrolling myself if that's the case!"

Her mind reeling Hermione walked to the window, carelessly flickering off some pesky bug lingering around the window seal before closing the window a sudden chill enveloping her. This was pretend, pretend Granger! She reminded herself before turning to Gretchen, "Not really Harry is just...well he's Harry," she said with a shrug.

"So I'm guessing from the near threat to my life, Tarzan is clueless?" Gretchen asked leaning against the counter.

"He does look like a Tarzan doesn't he?" Hermione said hoping to change the subject.

"If Tarzan was far sighted and Jane heavily pregnant, but don't try to change the subject Jane," Gretchen chided with a frown.

Hermione sighed a thoughtful look on her face, "No, he doesn't" she finally admitted and when Gretchen looked like she was about to berate her she quickly added, "It's just less complicated this way,"

"Lies seldom are," Gretchen mused before straightening up, "but you're a big girl, figuratively...and literally," she teased, stepping just out of reach from Hermione's hand, "so I guess I can't bully you into doing anything you don't want to,"

"No you can't,"

Gretchen shrugged picking up the milk carton, "But I beg you reconsider my dear lady, if those smouldering looks were any indication I'd say Tarzan likies very much," she said arching her eyebrow.

"Harry doesn't like me that way, if anything his feelings are brotherly," Hermione insisted all the while squelching that feeble flicker of hope in her chest.

Harry wasn't in love with her, especially not now when she looked like Missy Piggy with bad hair.

"If that's brotherly then you have a case of incest going on,"

"Don't you have a job?" Hermione asked exasperated, arguing with Gretchen was a feeble attempt.

"Yikes, I know when I'm no longer wanted," Gretchen said feigning mock hurt, "Trust a woman to jilt her closet friend for a topless man!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Like you wouldn't!" she fired back with a grin.

"You know I would," Gretchen said with a wink heading for the door, but before she stepped out her face rather grim she added, "Just get a fire extinguisher, Pinocchio,"

"Why?"

"Sooner or later your pants are going to catch fire," and with that Gretchen was gone leaving Hermione lost and laden with guilt.

**A/N: **Glad to have this chapter out, now the real story can start! So I'm sure some readers are about to jump into all sorts of conclusion on what Hermione's hiding and most of you will probably be on the right track.

But I am so certain that none of you will figure out the **real** truth until I type it out that I actually **dare you** to prove me wrong and guess correctly! I'm really interested to see which reader will figure it out!

Anyways would love to read your reviews and of course 'guesses' from the brave ones! ^-^


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** The feedback from the last chapter! Wow Thank You all so much, I was literally floored! Unfortunately life, that wench, really got hectic so this update is a little on the late side...

Well I'm actually glad no one guessed right on the events of how Hermione became pregnant although several were close and some were really hilarious, but all of them were appreciated!

Though I have to wonder why everyone assumes there was mutual drunkenness involved? I should probably torment you...But I won't. Harry is the father, so you can breathe easily. Believe me you'll love it (I hope) when you found out how it all came to be. So cookies to those who guessed Harry as the father!

Though I did consider Malfoy *evil grin*

As for Gretchen, thrilled you guys warmed up to her because she actually has a funny role in all of this drama.

Phew long AN, now do read, enjoy and review!

HRH

Hermione crouched behind the couch, working hard to breathe through her mouth rather than her nose so as to cause less noise. Her back was killing her and probably would for the rest of the night, then again it's not like she has much sleeping to look forward too. Hermione thought darkly.

It was all Harry's fault really, Harry and his closet snuggling ways. Who would have thought behind that slightly aloof attitude Harry was in fact a cuddler in bed? Hermione had had a hard time trying to fall asleep without his arms continuous attempts at wrapping themselves around her. It wasn't so much that she minded, it was because Hermione was afraid she'd end up doing something completely inappropriate that could only end in awkwardness.

Sure Harry was her best friend and everything but even he would draw the line against being mulled over by a hormone driven pregnant lady.

Quietly she inched her way, the door now just a few feet away, she could practically taste freedom-

"Hermione!"

With a yelp Hermione fell back on her hunches one hand supporting her belly the other her weight. Working to control her racing heart, she threw a glare at Harry. What was with him forever sneaking around anyways? And did he not know the meaning of being subtle; you'd think he would from years of having to sneak around Hogwarts at night.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" he asked looking genuinely perplexed as he towered over her.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Hermione snapped.

Harry glanced at her nervously, "Crawling?" he tried.

"The boy's a genius," Hermione muttered before scowling further at him, "Well aren't you going to help me up?"

"Oh sorry, of course," he said grabbing her arms and pulling her up, "Why were you crawling if I may ask?"

"I'm trying to escape Vivian," Hermione growled before stepping away from his arms, "I'm this close on calling social services on her. I'm sure it's illegal to overwork a pregnant woman like this,"

Hermione noted the slight flush of colour on Harry's face and her eyes narrowed as she pointed an accusatory finger at him, "You wouldn't perhaps have had a hand in this Harry James Potter?" she demanded.

Harry's eyes darted everywhere but her face as he shifted nervously, "Me, of course not," he mumbled.

"You're lying,"

"No, I'm not,"

"Harry, you're the worst liar I know," Hermione stated before making her way around the couch and collapsing on it. She'd been scrubbing and dusting for what had seemed an eternity and when Vivian had gone to use the bathroom, she'd made a run for it.

It was bad enough that she'd had to refrain from using cleaning charms but the worst insult was that her house was already spotless and in no need of cleaning whatsoever.

Through half lidded eyes she watched as Harry came to sit next to her, propping her feet on his lap, "So, I've been wondering about something-"

"Don't wonder," Hermione said cutting him off.

"About you and Ron," he continued as if she hadn't said anything, "I never did find out why you two...broke up I guess?"

Relieved that that was Harry's question, Hermione relaxed her tense muscles and folded her arms over her belly, "There was a lot of things, things I really don't want to get into right now," she said before adding, "But Crookshanks was the deal breaker,"

"I wondered what happened to that cat," Harry mused, "Didn't he have cancer or something?"

Hermione glared at Harry, "It wasn't cancer, he had stress related problems," she defended indignantly.

"What stress?" he asked his lips quivering as they fought off the urge to smile, "Catnip?"

"No, apparently having Ron around changed the living dynamics,"

"You broke up over a cat?" Harry asked perplexed.

"No, of course not," Hermione sniffed, "Let's just say there was an altercation between Ron and Crookshanks...and Crookshanks didn't make it,"

Secretly Harry was relieved to hear this, not that he hated Crookshanks of course, but nevertheless he was glad Ron had taken one for the team, "Well that's unfortunate to hear," he said hoping he actually sounded sincere.

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him, but said nothing else and they sat in a comfortable silence while Harry massaged her ankles. And for a moment Harry allowed himself to pretend that this was real. It was no secret he'd always wanted a family, heck he and Ginny had even spoken about it. Though of course that hadn't come to fruition, what with them constantly breaking up and all. Yet the yearning hadn't died down and now it was back.

"Hey Hermione," he said hoping his voice sounded casual and not thick with emotion.

"Hmmm?"

"I know this maybe be presumptuous of me, but," he paused taking a deep breath before meeting her eyes, "Could I be a part of your baby's life when it's born? I could be the fun uncle or something, I wouldn't crowd your space or anything I..." his voice trailed off when he noticed that Hermione's face had scrunched up in pain.

Did he say something wrong? Harry wondered as he watched Hermione blink back tears. Maybe the fact that he hadn't really been in touch with her and suddenly now he was asking so much from her, was throwing her off? Can't he ever get things right? Harry wondered as he realised he probably owed Hermione an apology.

"Look Hermione-"

"No, Harry...I-"

"There you are!" a voice boomed followed by William's hefty form as he strode into the room, "So this is where you've been hiding...well you can't elude me any longer,"

Harry had completely forgotten he was supposed to be meeting William for Merlin knows what. He glanced at Hermione but she'd quickly composed herself and the moment was over. Carefully removing her feet from his lap, he got up, "Er, sorry William...it slipped my mind," he said lamely.

"Well there goes hoping you were more brain than brawn," William tsked, "But there is still time to redeem yourself,"

Vaguely Harry wondered whether William realised they were no longer in some Shakespearean era.

"Hermione-"

"I'll be fine Harry," Hermione said firmly and Harry had no choice but to follow William.

/

The man is mad! Harry thought as he dogged yet another swing from the sword, this one had been dangerously close to his left arm.

"Fight like a man!" William roared with another swing of the sword.

When Harry had agreed to entertain William he had no idea it was a fight to the death. The man was taking this far too seriously and Harry feared Hermione would find him in pieces rendering her a fake widow.

"Stop running from me!"

"I'm not running!" Harry retorted, "I'm defending my limps!"

"I've seen five year olds fight better then you!"

"Those five year olds need serious mental evaluations!"

William grunted, raised his arm before suddenly dropping it to his side, "I think I've overexerted myself," he panted his face now flushed red with sweat beading down his forehead.

You're not the only one who you've overexerted. Harry thought slumping to the ground. He really needed more exercise if half an hour of dodging William's swipes left him exhausted.

"I seem to have underestimated you lad," William wheezed, "I think I maybe in need of a run in the gym,"

Harry raised an eyebrow at that, from where he was standing William needed a whole marathon. Thank Merlin for cholesterol.

"Erm Thank you I guess," Harry said.

"You're welcome," William said righting himself, "Maybe now-"

"Harry!" Hermione called out as she all but waddled her way to them an agitated look on their face.

She looked flustered, her hair untangling from her French braid and eyes shining. Sometimes Harry wondered why he'd never noticed how beautiful Hermione is, but Ron had and he was supposed to be the slow one. Harry thought shaking his head.

"Yes, Sugarplum?" Harry asked sweetly as he steadied her.

Hermione glared at him, probably miffed at the new pet name he'd adopted for her.

"Er can I borrow you for a moment, my charming jester?" she asked her cheeks probably hurting from the fake smile on her face.

My charming jester? What kind of pet name was that? But in William's presence he couldn't exactly ask her about it.

"Uhm what's wrong, Honey bunch?" Beat that Hermione. He thought grinning and failing to hide his smirk.

"My shy squire, I just have a teensy problem I'm hoping you can aid me with," Hermione answered even going as far as batting her eyelashes a sweet smile on her face.

Harry hadn't thought Hermione could go lower then 'my charming jester', but 'my shy squire'? Why were all his pet names inspired by medieval England courts?

"You can go help the lass, lad," William urged resheathing his sword, "I do think I need to rest for a bit, before dinner,"

"Alright then, love lead the way," Harry agreed and as he and Hermione made their way to the house they were the picture of a loving couple expecting their first child, Harry's arm around Hermione to support her whilst Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder.

But as soon as they stepped through the threshold Harry threw Hermione a glare.

"My Shy squire?" he demanded under his breath still reeling from the pet name, "Why can't I be your shinning knight?"

"Because I like shy squire," Hermione replied with a shrug.

Harry grumbled but decided to drop it for now, "So what's the problem?" he asked as Hermione led him down the hallway.

"It's not pretty," Hermione answered sounding anxious.

If Hermione looked this unnerved, then it was something really serious...

"You killed Vivian?" He asked eyes widening.

"Of course not!" Hermione snapped just before she stood in front of the door that led to her study, "Do you have your wand with you?" she hissed.

"Always," Harry replied in a whisper before a frown settled on his features, "Why are we whispering?"

"Er...I really don't know," Hermione admitted, "Forget that just have your wand on the ready,"

Harry grabbed his wand and held it poised, taking a calming breath he mentioned for Hermione to open the door. The door hadn't even completely opened and Hermione had already shoved him inside and closed the door behind them. Harry was just about to ask what else she was eating during her pregnancy for such strength, but the question died on his lips when he saw them.

There must have been hundreds of them on just about every surface of the room, some where even dangling from the ceiling. Ron would certainly be dead by now.

"Er...'Mione," Harry spluttered not even sure how she'd managed something like this, "Did you go raid Honeydukes recently," he asked stepping in hesitantly trying not to get the ones hopping on the floor squashed under his shoes.

"Of course not!" she snapped with a huff.

"Then why the hell is your study brimming with chocolate frogs?!"

Hermione looked just as perplexed as he was, "I don't know!" she blurted.

"Did you do something?" Harry asked still shocked at the vast amount of them. It looked like Hermione was running a little chocolate factory, in fact any moment now Harry was expecting to hear the Oompa-Loompa jingle and see the little men popping out from behind the desk.

Hermione heaved an exasperated sigh, "I was just busy with my research when they suddenly started popping from the ceiling," she explained though the more she talked the more doubtful she sounded.

"From the ceiling?" Harry asked slowly.

"Yes Harry or have you gone deaf!" she snapped.

Harry could see this was really starting to upset Hermione so he decide to indulge her, "Okay I believe you," he soothed giving her a comforting hug, "Why haven't you used the _Evanesco_ spell to just get rid of them?" he asked in her hair.

Hermione sighed looking up at him warily, "Obviously that was the first thing I did," she said before shrugging, "but if you think your wand is better than mine, be my guest," she gestured at the chocolate frogs hopping around and croaking.

Harry was surprised this noise had escaped Vivian it sounded like a swamp in here. Harry stepped back from Hermione ignoring her eye roll and concentrated before uttering the spell.

There was a swoosh and suddenly the frogs where gone.

"Wait for it," Hermione mumbled before he could bask in his victory and sure enough with a plopping sound the frogs began appearing all over the place again.

"Do you think this is one of Fred and George's crazy pranks?" Harry inquired not putting it pass the two Weasley twins.

But Hermione shook her head, "I have charms set up around the house, I would have known if they'd been close by," she replied.

Harry stared around them wondering how they could solve this problem, "What were you doing when they started falling from the ceiling?" he asked hoping that might lead them to a solution.

"I was just going over reports for some of my research studies, wondering whether or not I could get time to bake the chocolate cake for dessert today and then they just-"

"You wanted to bake a chocolate cake?" Harry asked cutting her off mid speech.

"Well yeah, I've had the strongest craving for chocolate all morning," Hermione supplied her eyes widening as she too seemed to come to the same conclusion he had, "You don't think that-"

"I think you should just listen to your cravings before he fills the whole house with chocolate frogs," Harry stated with a smile.

He had a feeling that had they asked Madam Pomfrey about the frogs appearing she would have told them rather frankly that it was the baby. Of course neither Harry and Hermione had ever really been around a pregnant witch before, except Luna but that was different, so they couldn't be blamed for not realising it sooner.

"She," Hermione corrected as she rubbed her belly gently. There was a look of wonderment on her face as she gazed down her swollen stomach.

"She?"

"Yes, It's a girl," she answered firmly.

"How can you be so sure?" Harry asked amused by her certainty regarding the baby's gender.

"Just, I have a feeling," she said with a shrug before she plopped one of the chocolate frogs in her mouth, "These are real good,"

Harry murmured in agreement as he watched the frogs slowly begin to disappear, his thoughts rolling the incident over in his mind. This ruled out a Muggle being the father of Hermione's baby, he doubted a half witch child could use such strong magic, which meant it was a wizard.

That meant it was probably someone he knew, but who? Harry was beginning to think he was obsessing over this, but he just had to know. Why he felt so strongly about discovering the truth he decided not to explore.

"I should really-"

A loud scream from within the house cut Hermione off and her and Harry shared bewildered looks before they rushed out. They had just arrived to find a stunned Vivian, a cup of tea tilted to the side with its contents on the floor, when their eyes landed on the source of her surprise.

Ron was now a sturdy 6ft3, after his break up with Hermione he'd grown out his hair with a matching beard giving him a rather rugged look. He had donned on a long cloak, his face was pinched red with anger as he held up a newspaper at them completely oblivious to the shocked woman gawking at him.

"You guys told Rita Skeeter and not me?!" he demanded glaring between Harry and Hermione, his eyes lingering on Hermione's obvious pregnancy belly before falling back on Harry.

"Told Rita what?" Harry asked wondering how they'd explain a man popping out of thin air to Vivian later.

Ron strode towards them practically shoving the newspaper in Harry's face, "This Potter," he spat.

The last time Ron had been so angry with him was back in fourth year and they'd sworn to never let anything cause strain in their friendship ever again.

Harry snatched the newspaper slightly irritated at Ron's actions. He pushed up his glances and ran his eyes over the headlines on the Daily Prophet. His eyes widened and he cursed under his breath. How they hell?! He wondered handing the newspaper to Hermione.

Hermione was more vocal in her response uttering a curse that instantly brought back Vivian to her senses.

"Young lady!" Vivian reprimanded aghast though it was relative whether it was the shock from the large man in the room or Hermione's curse.

To be honest Harry really didn't blame Hermione's outburst, Rita Skeeter had done it again and he really didn't know how he and Hermione would explain this one. In huge bold letters the following headline graced the front cover:

**THE BOY WHO LIVED KNOCK****ED**** UP HIS BESTFRIEND!**

**A/N: **A lot of the characters JK killed I decided to use for purposes of this story. Rita just never learns...next chapter Rita's article and a whole load of drama!


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note: **You guys are seriously amazing! The support this story has gotten is just crazy and in a good way! I was in such high spirits I immediately began piecing this chapter together even though I had stacks of studying to do. I even made this chapter longer because you guys are just awesome... (and I don't know when's the next update going to be)

Also thanks to the readers who pointed out the typos and stuff. Sorry about that.

I'm surprised no one asked how Rita found out, I left the clue in the third chapter. But believe me Rita will get what's coming to her.

I apologize in advance for Sirius's OCC moment, for plot purposes I really had no choice.

As always read, enjoy and review!

HRH

Ginny Weasley had long thick luscious red hair she kept in pristine condition. That's why every night just before she went into bed she'd sit before her vanity and run exactly a hundred strokes on each side of her parted hair.

Harry used to call it her middle night routine and to humour him, Ginny never tried to deter him from this. Rather he think it's a routine rather then what it really meant. For even though Ginny was beautiful, because really she was, and although she was bright she was still very insecure. At least when she looked in the mirror brushing through her hair she was assured of Harry's love for her.

People always said she resembled Lilly and she used her routine to remind Harry of this lest he forget. Yet there was still something sourly lacking...

A glance at her ringless finger and her calm expression would contort to one of annoyance. She'd given Harry the best years of her life and what does he do? Nothing.

All her carefully laced hints and not once had he ever proposed seemingly content for them to cohabitate in his flat and not even on the nicer side of London too. Something about finding rich people stuffy, it was probably pointless to remind him he was rich and could afford to be stuffy.

So in a last desperate ditch to get him to act she'd dumped him. Hoping that once he lived life without her he would realise how good he had it and come crawling back to ask for her forgiveness and hand in marriage. Only three months had already passed since their last break up and lo and behold there was no Harry and more importantly still no ring around her finger.

Bristling she dropped the hairbrush and spun on the woman perched on her bed leafing through a magazine seemingly oblivious to her plight.

"I thought you said he'd marry me," she seethed eyes narrowed her fingers practically itching towards her wand.

The woman shook her head, "No, I never said that," she said calmly and raised her hand silencing the words Ginny was all but ready to through at her, "I said putting pressure on him will make him realise how good he has it with you,"

"Well it's been three months Lavender, what's taking him so long?" she demanded

Lavender Brown shrugged, "Hey I'm just a woman not a fortune teller," she replied dryly.

Muttering to herself Ginny spun back to her reflection gripping the hair brush.

"Uhm Ginny,"

"Yes?" she practically snapped growing irritated by Lavender's attitude. While she lazed there reading rubbish, Ginny's whole life could be crumbling. How thoughtless could you get? It wasn't Ginny fault Lavender couldn't keep a man, the least she could do was support those who could.

"I think you should have stopped taking those contraception pills a long time ago," Lavender said her eyes glued to the magazine.

Ginny scoffed, why on earth would she want a wailing brat during the prime of her life?

"Why would I do something that stupid?!" she demanded.

Lavender lifted up the magazine to Ginny's face, "Well maybe then you'd be the one titled Mrs Harry Potter," she said dryly.

Ginny snapped the article from Lavender's hands ignoring cries to be careful. It was a feature by Rita Skeeter but that wasn't what caught her eyes. It was the huge picture of the happy couple seemingly sharing an ardent embrace.

But even bigger then that was the obvious belly protruding from the woman's stomach. The woman that was Hermione Granger.

"That bitch!"

/

! The Daily Prophet!

**The Boy who lived, Knocked Up his Bestfriend!**

By Rita Skeeter

Well dear readers it would seem that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger are not as patriotic as we were all led to believe. The two have been living a secret life in the suburbs and are currently expecting their first born. Surprised? Shocked? In disbelieve?

If only someone had known all along about the secret love affair between these two and had tried to expose it a long time ago. If only there had been a brilliant, observant journalist and seeker of the truth...

Wait, I believe there was! For was it not I, Rita Skeeter, that had tried to expose the truth? Had I not risked life and limp? Exposed myself to dangerous fiery dragons all in the name of giving you the truth, dear readers? I believe I did.

And unfortunately in my quest for the truth my name was slandered by Hermione Granger herself. Who vehemently denied the allegations even going as far as threatening my person. See another lesser writer would have given up, but I knew her defensive attitude was used as a ploy to hide the truth. The Truth?

That she and Harry Potter are secret lovers!

Woes are the hearts of Ginny and Ronald Weasley, for they are the true victims in this love affair. Like lambs to the slaughter, they were fooled like the rest of us. Never suspecting their significant others were actually having an affair right under their noses! Now enough about the Weasleys (I doubt anyone is really interested in their sob story), and back to the main story.

How did Harry Potter and Hermione Granger keep such a solicitous secret from becoming public? Where they afraid of the media frenzy it would evoke? Or were they simply trying to spare the Weasleys?

It would seem that a type of advanced charm (Granger's skill is well known and so is Potter's) was used to conceal the pregnancy until the late stages. During that time Potter and Hermione eloped to the states to get married and have only now returned. But Rita Harry was spotted in Diagon Alley just last month? Well I can explain that too, it was not Harry Potter! It was a body double, yes the Potters went to extremes to keep this a secret.

Why Harry Potter himself told a trusted source how they had to sneak around to keep the pregnancy from the scavengers that are some journalists (you'll find these ill reputed journalists in trash such as the Quibbler).

So even though the Potters have finally stepped forward with the truth, Mr and Mrs Potter hope that the public can respect their privacy in this special time. As not only is it a sacred time, but for some reason they wish to spare the Weasley's further heartache.

Stay tuned for further updates on the Potter's first born. Why I believe he's going to be an even greater wizard than his proud parents! Oh dear I've slipped haven't I? Accidently revealing the gender of the baby! So there you have it dear readers, the whole truth!

! The Daily Prophet!

/

Harry glanced at Vivian realising that they would need to have this conversation away from her, "Uhm Grandmother," he began ignoring Ron's indignant scoff, "If you'll just excuse us for a moment," he said steering Hermione towards the kitchen certain Ron would follow.

"What's going on?" Vivian asked still eyeing Ron as if not sure what specimen he was.

"I'll explain everything," Hermione assured her before all three of them entered the kitchen somehow managing to crowd the vast space.

At first it looked like no one would say anything until Ron bellowed, "You guys told Rita Skeeter and not me, your best mate?!"

Harry glanced from Hermione who was seething and back to Ron who looked like he'd explode any minute.

"We told that busy body nothing!" Hermione snapped which was the truth so Harry figured she had every right to be angry.

"So you guys aren't really married?" Ron asked hopefully then frowned, "Is that a fake stomach then?" he added eyeing Hermione's stomach with suspicion

"No, I am pregnant Ronald," Hermione gritted out crossing her arms over her belly.

"Well there is no way Harry's is the father then," Ron harrumphed.

"Why not?' Harry asked now wondering where Ron was taking this.

"Hermione is not attracted to you in that way," Ron stated rather matter-of-factly, "Ask her yourself if you don't believe me,"

Harry glanced at Hermione who was now avoiding his gaze, was it true? Not to seem vain or anything but Harry had a few magazines that would suggest he was a desirable young man...then again hadn't Hermione dated Ron not him?

Ron had this triumphant look on his face and more than anything Harry wanted to wipe it off. So ignoring his bruised ego he faced Hermione, cupped her face in his palms and kissed her. It was not the light kiss he'd accidently bestowed upon her that first day, no this was a searing kiss born from needing to prove Ron wrong.

After a moment he pulled back, Hermione looked stunned, her eyes glazed and a red flush covering her face. He turned back to Ron who was staring at them his mouth agape, "Sorry you had to witness that mate but that's just the sort of attraction that got us here," he stated casually pushing back his bangs and fixing his glasses that had managed to go askew.

Ron spluttered for several moments before an ugly sneer consorted his face, "You couldn't wait to jump into Hermione's bed!" he accused pointing a finger at him.

Hermione gasped and Harry felt his own anger bubbling to the surface. Ron had no right to be angry wasn't he and Hermione over anyways?

"You two were over!" he snapped not even caring that technically he was justifying a wrong he hadn't committed.

"Please, you've been waiting for this chance ever since she chose me!" Ron retorted, "You couldn't stand the fact that for once Harry-frigging-Potter didn't win!"

"I'm not something to be won Ronald!" Hermione snapped.

Later Harry would wonder about his next words and ask himself what permitted him to say such, but amidst the anger and Ron's snide comments it had really seemed like the only thing that would shut Ron up.

"Well technically she's pregnant with my kid," he stated calmly fists clenched by his sides, "So I guess Harry-frigging-Potter won,"

After he said it he wished he could take it back, but it was one of those things that once said couldn't be unsaid. For a long time Ron just stared at him as if seeing him for the first time then he glanced between him and Hermione before he stormed out the kitchen.

Now that his anger had seeped out, he suddenly realised the implications of his actions and words. How would they explain things after this whole charade was over? He couldn't exactly be like, "April's fool everybody!" it was not even July yet...

"That went well," Harry said dryly suddenly feeling drained by the whole incident.

Hermione stared at him with huge eyes, "Harry, how could you be so reckless!" she demanded clutching his shirt, "Now everyone will think Rita's article is true!"

Did she think he didn't realise that? That this was probably going to end as one sordid mess.

"Would it be so bad 'Mione to have them think that?!" he demanded angry at her and not really sure why. He didn't bother to wait for her reply as he stormed out the kitchen wondering how he would fix this mess.

Harry abruptly stood, eyes wide as he took in all their friends crowding Hermione's living room and chattering amongst themselves yet once they spotted Harry they all started throwing questions at him. Really he had the worse of luck. Harry thought as he tried to calm everyone whilst edging towards the nearest exit.

And just when Harry couldn't think this day couldn't get any worse he ran right into Ginny. Didn't Hermione supposedly have charms set out?! What's the point of being the smartest witch of her generation if she couldn't even get an apparition band spell to work? He wondered, irritated as he faced his ex girlfriend.

Ginny looked calm and that immediately put Harry on the alert because it meant she might explode any moment.

"We need to talk," Ginny stated, "In private," she added eyeing the other people in the room. It was looking more like a doctor's reception area then a living room.

There was a wolf whistle that came somewhere in the small crowd followed by Dean's shout, "Potter's in trouble!"

Harry sighed knowing there was no way he could get out of this, "Follow me," he said leading the way to Hermione's study and away from keen ears.

Once they'd entered Ginny's calm expression dropped and she stared at him with an angry scowl, "How could you?!" she demanded.

"Ginny it's not what you think," he tried.

"Not what I think?!" Ginny cried, "She's pregnant Harry and you two are married!"

"Ginny-"

"So during our break up eight months ago you slept with her?" she asked as she began to pace, "Then you didn't even think I needed to know once we got back together?"

"Ginny-"

"The whole time you two were probably sneaking around planning your wedding,"

"Ginny"

"All the while-"

"Ginny, just shut up!" Harry snapped finally stopping her mad pace by grasping her arms, "It's a farce," he explained.

"What?" she asked confused.

"Hermione and I really aren't married and the kid isn't even mine," he added calmly though there was a small part of them that wished either wise. Harry had a feeling he was getting a bit too attached to this lie.

He'd probably already lost one of his bestfriends because of it.

Ginny squinted at him as if debating whether he was telling the truth or not, "Then why lie about it?" she demanded.

Harry dropped his hands from her arms running a hand through his devilish hair, "It was to fool Hermione's grandparents, she asked me as a favour. But somehow Rita found out then she-"

"Wait, so aren't married?" Ginny asked cutting him off. Harry nodded, "And the baby isn't yours?" she pressed further.

Again Harry shook his head.

"That's wonderful!" Ginny exclaimed her eyes shining with joy.

"It is?"

"Yes, that means we can get back together again," Ginny replied happily.

Harry frowned, "What happened to that speech you gave me about finding it being you and not me?" he asked.

"Forget the speech Harry, it doesn't matter anymore," she said excited and not even noting how tense Harry's shoulders were.

"I begged you to stay," he reminded her, their break up playing in his head as he remembered how calm Ginny had been about it all.

"Harry that was three months ago, I forgive you now,"

Harry couldn't believe Ginny. She'd dumped him, left him and even when he put down his pride for her and begged her to stay she still didn't. How could she honestly think that everything was okay? And she forgave him? He shook his head, his mind felt like it would explode any moment now. Too many things were happening, too many people popping up asking questions Harry had no answers to.

"Ginny...I can't talk about this right now," Harry finally said leaving her staring wide eyed at him. All Harry wanted was for everyone to leave so he could get a moment to think everything through.

"hsssss!" he swivelled his head around to find William's head poking from behind the door of their bedroom, "Who are all those people?" he asked.

The last thing Harry needed was William to enter the fray of wizards brandishing his sword. Scratching his head for an answer that would somehow keep Hermione's grandparents out of this mess until they sorted it out, Harry finally found what he hoped was a plausible excuse.

"Jehovah Witnesses," he lied.

"I knew it!" William exclaimed before he was yanked back and Vivian's head poked out in his place.

"Those people have found even new ways to intrude upon us," she said with a huff.

"Let me at them!" William cried from somewhere in the room.

And Harry didn't need to see through walls to know he was probably unsheathing his sword.

"Uhm no!" Harry said quickly before adding in a more calm voice, "We don't want to alarm them right, so I'll handle it,"

Vivian sniffed, "Just get rid of them already before they convert our grandchild," she said.

"Not while I have breath in my body and-" whatever else William was ranting about was lost to Harry as Vivian shut the door closed.

Heaving a sigh of relief Harry decided to go confront their friends. The sooner he did the sooner everyone could just disapparate out of here.

If he ever crossed paths with Rita Skeeter again, that woman will wish she had an invincibility cloak to hide under. He thought darkly as he went back to face the hundred or so questions.

"Harry!"

Harry swivelled on the spot to face his uncle, who stood pointing a finger at him. Oh no, now he was really going to get it, "Look Sirius I can explain-"

"It's about bloody time!" Sirius said a huge grin on his face as he walked up to Harry and patted him on the back, nearly causing his lungs to fall right out his mouth, "Ginny was a fine broad, but secretly I've always hoped you'd end up with Hermione... the daughter I never had," he added whimsically.

To say Harry was surprised was an understatement he'd been sure Sirius would be angry that he too had been kept out the dark, but from the grin on his face and the beam in his eyes his uncle looked anything but.

"Where is my lovely daughter-in-law?" Sirius asked peering over the assembled group.

It seemed from all the people gathered Sirius was taking this rather well, in fact his god fathered seemed to have embraced the news. It would be so saddening when Harry had to tell him the whole ugly truth.

That seemed to knock Harry back to reality, "Uhm, the thing is-"

"Hermione! I was just asking my wayward nephew here about you," Sirius said as Hermione walked into the room looking nervous and anxious from all the eyes on them.

"You were?" Hermione asked steeling a glance at Harry who shrugged.

"Of course, see it's not every day my favourite nephew elopes,"

"I'm you're only nephew," Harry mumbled.

"So you guys really eloped?" Neville asked glancing between them before adding in a hushed voice, "So does this mean you and Ginny-"

"Neville really?" Jordan asked shaking his head, "What sort of opportunist are you?" he asked giving the other man a disapproving look before turning to Harry, "You know my radio show also does celebrity exclusives so if you and Hermione want to clear the air-"

"So I'm the opportunist?" Neville asked dryly.

Harry shook his head at his friends, "Look guys Hermione and I will tell you everything, but just not right now," he said over the crowd's chatter.

There were several groans and out cries.

"At least tell us when the baby's due," Parvati said.

Harry glanced at Hermione, he too had no idea.

"Three weeks from now," Hermione said her face flushed.

"Now not to seem rude but Hermione is a bit tired so-"

"We get it Potter, we're crowding the love nest," Fred said giving him a suggestive wink.

"Potter's a beast," George piped in, "You'd think he would have had enough of having our dear Hermione all to himself,"

Harry was sure he too was spotting a red face like Hermione, trust the Weasley twins to make it something crude.

"Okay that's enough let's give the newlyweds some space," Sirius said waving off the people crowding the room.

One by one people began popping out some promising so visit soon and asking if it was too late for a baby shower.

"She's going to have your eyes," Luna said patting Harry's arm a dreamy look on her face.

There was no point telling Luna that would be impossible seeing as he wasn't the father, "Erm thanks Luna," he said awkwardly.

Luna just smiled waving at Hermione before she too popped out. Soon it was just Harry, Hermione, Sirius and the two Weasley twins. Vaguely he wondered if Ginny had left yet.

"You know what this means Fred?" George asked sharing a look with his brother.

Fred nodded, "It would seem our brother is sterile," he said.

"The two of you," Sirius said shaking his head, he turned to Harry, "We'll talk later, and Hermione you are positively glowing" he said before he bundled up the twins who were busy discussing Ron's sexual prowess or lack off.

Finally alone Harry turned to Hermione, "Hermione-"

"Not now Harry I need to go speak to Gretchen," Hermione said an anxious look on her face.

Harry was really starting to wonder about Hermione constantly finding ways to avoid talking to him, but she really looked on edge and was probably overwhelmed by all this. Because he highly doubted that was the last of their visitors. He half expected Molly Weasley to pop up next. Him and Hermione really had a lot of explaining to do. He thought ruefully.

Deciding not to press her Harry allowed her to leave.

"In her condition she probably shouldn't be up on her feet so much," Ginny mused as she walked up to him.

So Ginny hadn't left.

"Look Harry why don't I go after her?" she asked in hopes Harry would see how well she was handling all of this, "She probably just needs a woman to talk to," and although Ginny had found out the truth she wanted to make sure Hermione wasn't having some misguided ideas about using Harry's chivalry as a way to tie him to her.

Harry was Ginny's, end of story.

Harry nodded absently muttering about going to check on Hermione's grandparents. Ginny watched him leave before following after Hermione.

/

Karma is a bitch! Hermione though angrily as she walked up to Gretchen's house. The one time she acts reckless and it comes back to bite her in the arse!

Reaching the door, Hermione pressed her thumb to the doorbell not releasing it until she heard feet approaching followed by curses on the other side of the door. The door finally swung open revealing Gretchen who looked like she'd just stumbled out of bed, a hairnet on covering shocking green hair, skimpy shorts and a frumpy vest her feet covered in knee length socks.

"Are you in labour?" she asked glancing at Hermione's legs.

"No," Hermione replied pushing past the other woman.

"They why the hell are you trying to burst my eardrums?!" Gretchen demanded padding after Hermione who'd made a bee line for the sitting room.

Hermione tried to compose herself even as she felt her heart beating erratically, she turned to Gretchen twisting her fingers nervously, "Something really horrible has happened," Hermione began a look of anguish on her face.

Gretchen shook her head slowly, "You slept with Harry again?!'" she asked with disbelief, "lady you're practically about to give birth any day now! I get the whole hormone thing, but this is just inappropriate,"

Hermione frowned at Gretchen, "I'll have you know I'm not due for another three weeks," she stated haughtily, "And no I didn't sleep with Harry...again,"

"Well, it's just that eight months ago that's what happened," Gretchen said flopping on her armchair, "Take a sweat before you induce premature labour," she offered and waited until Hermione had perched herself on the couch before continuing, "So what happened?"

"Rita Skeeter," Hermione said through gritted teeth, "That vile woman wrote an article telling the whole bloody wizard world that Harry's the father!"

When Hermione got her hands on that woman there would be hell to pay! She silently promised herself

"Uhm and you're angry?" Gretchen asked perplexed.

"Of course I'm angry!"

"You're angry that for once that woman told the truth?" Gretchen asked again slowly as if she feared it wouldn't sink in either wise.

"That's not the point," Hermione snapped, "It's not her truth to tell, now everything is messed up!"

"God forbid Harry' thinks he's the father,"

"Gretchen I'm serious," Hermione cried.

"So am I, Hermione," Gretchen said digging around her seat until she found a box of badly crumpled cigarettes and pulling one out, "You should be thanking her,"

"Thanking her?" Hermione exclaimed, "Has all those dye jobs gone to your head?!"

'I'm serious she just gave you an out," Gretchen said leaning over to grab a lighter, "Now you can just tell Harry the truth,"

"The truth, you really are mad," Hermione groaned, "Harry would never forgive me, I kept this from him for eight months!"

"You were confused, Merlin's sake blame the hormones!" Gretchen cried, "Hermione just tell him, he deserves to know!"

"There's no way I can ever tell Harry he's the father!" Hermione stated just as a gasp sounded from the hallway. Turning in terror her eyes locked gazes with a stunned Ginny Weasley.

"I guess I should have closed the door, huh," Gretchen mumbled around the unlit cigarette dangling between her lips.

**A/N:** Hoped you enjoyed the really long (compared to my usual chapters) update! I apologize for any typos I was just in a rush to update, but promise to go back and look through this.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note:** Firstly thank you so much to my wonderful readers! The reviews, follows etc for this have just been so amazing! Three exclamation marks, that's how thrilled I am. Planned to update this sooner, but had a crazy week, really surprised I even saw it through.

Anyways I got this review about how offensive the whole Jehovah barb was, I'd like to make it clear that I never write to offend anyone firstly and secondly because this is humour based I presume that anything characters may say will be taken in jest. I am not the characters I write, so that means I won't necessarily hold their views, but if I did offend some people, then I do apologize.

Now I'd like to thank **Spinning Round on a Carousel**, my Beta reader! She's been real wonderful and the lateness of this update is entirely on me. Yes you can rest easy knowing that this has been edited.

Warning: There is some fluffiness in this chapter, but really it's essential every now and again, right? So read, enjoy and review!

IIII

"There's no way I can ever tell Harry he's the father!" Hermione stated just as a gasp sounded from the hallway. Turning in terror, her eyes locked with those of a stunned Ginny Weasley.

"I guess I should have closed the door, huh," Gretchen mumbled around the unlit cigarette dangling between her lips.

Years ago when Hermione was eight, she'd slipped of a branch and fallen from a tree. The feeling of hitting the ground stomach first was a pain she still remembered. It had felt like her insides had imploded inside of her and the twisting pain had been almost crippling.

And that's exactly how she felt as she stared into the shocked face of Ginny Weasley, like her insides had become painfully twisted and any moment now she'd bend in pain clutching at her stomach. The room had become deathly silent; the only sound Hermione could hear was her thudding heart.

"Ginny-"

"Harry is the father?" Ginny croaked, her eyes wide. The disbelief etched on her face would be comical if the situation wasn't so dire. She looked very pale too, her freckles practically standing out.

Hermione didn't know what to say. Couldn't it have been anyone but Ginny? Anyone at all really, someone who wasn't directly connected to this mess Hermione had designed for herself? She opened and closed her mouth, but for once she was speechless. It was like all the words had just fled from her mind and left her with a plank page.

"Is Harry the father?" Ginny asked again, now with a slight edge to her voice as she stared at Hermione through narrowed eyes.

"Yes," Hermione confirmed.

It was funny how easily it came out - she'd been sure she'd have least tried to deny it at first, but everything was happening so fast, her emotions practically bursting at the seams. She felt as if any moment now she might come undone.

That or start reciting the names of past Hogwarts headmasters in alphabetical order.

Ginny looked like she'd just been hit with a bucket of freezing water on a cold winter's night. Her face twisted from shock to pain to anger and back to shock. And Hermione had the feeling that had the redhead known how unattractive that was, she'd have stopped immediately.

"I think I hear the phone ringing, I'll just go get that," Gretchen said ,and as she left them, she gave Hermione a questioning look. There was no phone ringing but she was grateful for the gesture nevertheless.

Hermione nodded. She'd be fine - at least that's what she was hoping.

Once it was just the two of them, it seemed the tension in the room only intensified and when Ginny began pacing back and forth, it just got worse.

"Harry is the father," Ginny said, more as a statement then a question. She glanced at Hermione for confirmation, which she received when Hermione nodded. "Merlin, how did this happen? _When_ did this happen?" she demanded.

"That's sort of private," Hermione replied.

"It affects me," Ginny retorted. "Why doesn't Harry know? Did you do something to him?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed at the accusation, "Of course not!" she snapped.

Why did Ginny automatically think this was all her fault? Maybe it was, but that wasn't cause for the other woman to start throwing accusations! For all she knew, Hermione could be the victim here.

"Then how come Harry doesn't know and you're trying to keep it from him?"

Hermione knew without a doubt that Ginny was smart, which is why she was baffled at the dumb questions flying out her mouth. It wouldn't be much of a secret of Harry knew obviously.

"I'm not telling you that," Hermione said firmly.

If or when her secret came out, it would not be to the ears of one Ginny Weasley.

Ginny glared at her then resumed her pacing, a finger twirling a strand of hair. She seemed to be in deep thought. Just when Hermione was convinced she'd lose it having to watch Ginny pace, the younger woman stopped, turning to her, a determined look on her face.

"I love Harry," she stated.

"I know," Hermione said.

Ginny shook her head. "No, you don't... He's my soul mate!" she insisted.

The irony in that statement was not lost to Hermione because during her third year, she'd entertained similar thoughts.

"I really love him, Hermione,"

It was all she could do not to roll her eyes. It was blatantly obvious that Ginny had been infatuated with Harry since she had first laid eyes on him, Hermione really didn't need further convincing.

"That's why I won't tell him," Ginny finally said

That took Hermione by surprise - she had been certain that Ginny would insist on telling Harry the truth. Didn't she realise how this would work in her favour? Harry would feel betrayed and turn to Ginny for comfort and she could have him back.

Practically on a silver plate draped in syrup...

Hermione inwardly groaned. Really, draped in syrup? Is this what hormones do to you? Turn you into some perverted bloated home-wrecker?

"But you can't tell him either," Ginny added resolutely, oblivious to Hermione's internal thoughts. "You have to allow him to leave when this whole silly farce is over."

"That is a promise Hermione's not making!" Gretchen exclaimed, her head peeking in from behind the doorway. "Tell her she's bonkers, Herms."

Hermione wasn't really surprised that Gretchen was eavesdropping, but Ginny seemed irked and she glared at the intrusive woman. Pressing her lips together, she pondered Ginny's offer. This way, she'd keep her lie and no one need ever know... Unless of course her baby was born with a lightning bolt scar on its forehead.

Somehow Hermione had a feeling that would be a dead give-away.

"Well, promise me," Ginny pressed, jaw jutted out and eyes fixed on Hermione.

Hermione suddenly felt wary. She also realised she'd been on her feet most of the day and would probably wake up with her ankles the size of melons tomorrow. It wasn't like her life wasn't bad enough right now, but now she'd have to add Side Show Bob's shoes to her shopping list.

"Well?" Ginny prodded, jolting Hermione out of her thoughts.

Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear and took a deep breath.

/

Harry was anxious. Hermione hadn't returned yet and he was worried something had happened to her. He had half a mind to go looking for her, but Vivian refused to leave his side, constantly asking questions that Harry really didn't have the answers to.

"You know what's odd?" Vivian probed again, bringing Harry out of his thoughts.

"Um... No?"

"All those people and not even one car," Vivian said, shaking her head. "Not a single car, isn't that odd?"

"I guess?" Harry tried, not wanting to lie outright, as according to Hermione he was horrible at it. He really didn't want Vivian seeing through him.

"I think I know," William said, looking up from polishing his sword.

"Really?" Vivian said this in a way that conveyed quite clearly she was of the belief that whatever her husband uttered would be complete nonsense.

William nodded, an earnest look on his face. "They travelled through the chimney."

Harry was sure the wind had literally left him. Though he was certain no one had travelled by Floo Powder, he was stunned that William knew something like that. Was it a wild guess from a crazy man or was William actually onto something?

Thankfully, Vivian's indignant snort prevented him from saying anything. "I think Dr. Parker should start upping the dose for your ADHD," she remarked.

"It's all a conspiracy. The government is trying to keep it from us," William insisted.

"You think everything is a conspiracy, dear. Why, just yesterday you swore on your life that recycling was a conspiracy," Vivian drawled.

"Technically, dear, I swore on your life," William corrected.

Vivian rolled her eyes. "How many lives have you put in danger?" she asked dryly.

William harrumphed but said nothing.

"Sit down, dear. I think all the excitement has taxed you out," Vivian said soothingly as she tapped the seat next to her.

The sound of the front door opening and closing silenced any protests William may have made. After several moments, Hermione walked in, looking slightly frazzled. Harry instantly walked to her side, helping her to a seat.

"What happened? You disappeared!" he said, careful not to say anything that might make her grandparents suspicious.

"I went over to Gretchen's," Hermione replied warily.

"That's all?" Vivian asked with a frown, "You look rather pale."

It was true that Hermione looked a bit worse for wear.

"I just need to sit for a moment," Hermione reassured them.

Harry was convinced something else was up, but he decided to drop it in front of her grandparents.

"Would you be a dear and get us some tea, Harry?" Vivian asked. "Perhaps it will bring some colour back to her cheeks."

The surprised look on Hermione's face didn't go unnoticed by Harry.

"Of course, grandmother," he agreed, glancing once more at Hermione before he made his way to the kitchen.

Harry had already switched the kettle on and was just setting out the cups when Hermione walked in.

"You should be sitting down," he reprimanded her.

Hermione sank into a chair. "Crazy day, huh?" she asked him.

Putting the teabags into each cup, he glanced over his shoulder to reply. "Yep, just don't start craving anything like custard," he warned with a grin.

Hermione laughed, "I'll try to refrain," she promised before her eyes went wide.

"What?"

"I have a Lamaze class today!" she exclaimed, "With everything happening, I forgot all about it!"

"But you're tired," Harry reminded her.

Hermione nodded. "I know, but I don't want to miss this class either. And you know I'm a stickler for class attendance,"

Harry did know. It would seem that even years later, Hermione still took any learning experience as seriously as she did school. It goes without saying what a huge sacrifice it must have been for her when they dropped out of school to search for the Horcruxes.

"I could take you," Harry offered, feeling it was the least he could do.

Besides, he didn't really see a great night in the works with only Vivian and William as company.

"I don't know, Harry..." Hermione trailed off, chewing nervously on her lower lip.

"Hermione, it's nothing, really," Harry said, then added, "And wouldn't your beloved husband accompany you to these classes anyway?" He was using her own farce against her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I guess," she mumbled as she slouched further in her seat.

"Come on, surely being around me isn't that bad?" Harry teased with a grin.

"Of course not," Hermione replied. "I mean the worse that can happen is that we end up going on some life-threatening adventure... What are the chances that will happen?"

/

"Um, Harry?" Hermione began, not sure how she could broach the topic without making it awkward for both of them.

For the whole drive over, her thoughts had shifted between her conversation with Ginny and having Harry in her class. She was actually surprised a headache hadn't developed yet.

Harry was in the process of shoving his wand in his pocket. "Mm?"

Taking a calming breath, Hermione composed her thoughts. When she'd first chosen Dr. Brian as her Lamaze instructor, she'd done it because it specifically catered for women embarking on single parenthood. The last thing she'd wanted while her hormones were on overdrive was to go to some class with all these happy expecting couples, reminding her of her rather obvious single status.

Her class was perfect – well, if you overlooked some of the conversation topics some of her classmates divulged in of course.

"Just so you're prepared, the class is predominantly hormonal pregnant women," she said, hoping she sounded relaxed and wasn't showing the anxiety she really felt.

Harry nodded, now fumbling with his glasses. Realising he probably wasn't really paying attention to her, Hermione grabbed his sleeve to still his movements.

"I just want you to be prepared for the looks you might get," Hermione stressed.

"Blimey," Harry muttered. "It's my hair, isn't it? I knew I should have tried one of those grooming spells, but I swear they just keep flying in every direction."

"It's not your hair," Hermione assured him, though that 'I-just-got-out-of-bed' look wasn't going to do him any favours once her classmates laid eyes on him.

"Then?"

If she told him to prepare for the possibility of being visually ravished, he would probably be alarmed, so Hermione tried to spare him. "Some women might find you attractive so-"

"Attractive, huh?" Harry mused a grin on his face. "Hermione, are you trying to tell me something?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow and waggling it suggestively at her.

He was just horsing around of course, but it still had an effect on Hermione.

She blushed furiously. "Of course not!" she snapped, hoping to hide her reaction to his words. "I was just warning you, but if you're going to be so-"

"Merlin, 'Mione, I was just kidding," Harry said, cutting off her rant.

Hermione harrumphed before stalking into the class, flustered more than actually angry, leaving Harry to trail behind her. She mentally braced herself for what she knew would be coming, and sure enough, as soon as they stepped in she could feel everyone's eyes on them.

Their entrance probably wouldn't have drawn much attention if they weren't already twenty minutes late.

"Sorry, we had an emergency," Hermione apologized.

"I know it's raining," one of her classmates said, a lively woman named Shirley, "but the weatherman said nothing about it raining men,"

Shirley was rather a robust woman who never let a flirting opportunity pass her by - one of the reasons Hermione suspected Dr. Brian had stopped bringing her husband along.

"Not just any type of men...The tall, dark and extremely handsome type," another, Jane, quipped with a smile.

Hermione felt a flush creep over her face and was too embarrassed to glance at Harry to see how he was faring.

"Weird, that's exactly my type," a voice belonging from a woman named Bridget said. "So what's his name, Hermione?"

"Harry," Hermione replied, though she was surprised her face hadn't turned into an LED light by now.

"Gosh, even the name sounds sexy!" Wanda exclaimed. "Does he speak?"

"Make him say something hot, Hermione," Shirley prompted. "Like Shirley." She dragged out the last syllable, smirking suggestively.

"Come now ladies, settle down," Dr. Brian chided, though she was smiling. She turned to Harry and Hermione. "Why don't you take that mat over there and ignore them?" she suggested.

Hermione was glad for Harry's aid as he helped her into a sitting position on the mat.

"Good thing you brought a partner, Hermione," Dr. Brian said. "We're focusing on the Bradley Method today,"

"Who's Bradley?" Harry asked as he sat down next to her.

"It's a method that concentrates on a more natural birth process," Hermione answered.

"Hermione, you might want to sit between Harry's legs for this one," Dr. Burns suggested.

"Why?" Hermione blurted.

"I just thought you might want him to coach you through the exercise?"

"Throw him over here, I don't mind," Jane said.

"Jane, you have a boyfriend," Amber accused, shaking her head before she turned to Harry with a smile. "But I don't."

"Seriously, Amber? Queen of Cheese much?" Shirley chided.

Hermione didn't want to be so close to Harry, but she couldn't think of a good enough reason why it was better for her not to be. 'I'm very attracted to him' probably didn't count.

Strengthening her resolve, Hermione shifted forward so that Harry could sit behind her. He did so without uttering a word. The least he could have done was protest or something, Hermione thought darkly.

"Okay, let's continue then," Dr. Brian said.

Hermione was really trying to pay attention, but all she could see was Dr. Brian's lips moving and yet she heard no words coming out. In fact _everything_ had become silent and dim the moment Harry's hands splayed on her thighs. What had been a tranquil environment had somehow turned into a sketchy, raunchy movie set.

She could feel the heat on her face and knew whatever attempts she had been making at exuding calm had left her the moment Harry's body pressed against hers. It was horribly frustrating, especially since before Harry, she'd been flying through this class. Now, try as she might, her muscles refused to relax, her thoughts kept straying to the feel of having Harry's arms around her, his scent invading her senses, his breath fanning her neck deliciously.

Her thoughts had somehow gone from maternal to carnal.

"'Mione, you're tense," Harry murmured. He was so close that his lips brushed ever so lightly on her earlobes. A shiver literally ran through Hermione's body and she had to bite on her bottom lip lest she embarrass herself. "Are you cold?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"Are you cold?" Harry repeated. "You're shivering."

Oh, her shivers had nothing to do with the cold whatsoever, Hermione thought dryly as she tried to compose herself. It really wasn't Harry's fault that he was all firm muscles and alluring scent. And by the way he went on, it was obvious he was oblivious to his effect on her.

"No, I'm fine - just tired of having to keep my back straight," she replied. It wasn't a complete lie; keeping her back from touching Harry's chest was quite strenuous.

"Then you should lean on me," he said, pulling her against him and Hermione felt her throat constrict as she tried to swallow.

"Look Harry, I'm really more tired then I initially thought. I think I want to go home now," Hermione said, glad when her voice came out a lot more controlled then she felt.

She wasn't even going to think how strange it would look if they left barely five minutes in the class, especially after their late entry. She'd thought she could handle Harry being so close to her with both them conscious. Apparently, she'd thought wrong.

"Why don't you relax your thighs for just a moment?" Harry suggested. "Then we'll go."

The words to remind Harry that she didn't need him ordering her about were on the tip of her tongue. When the time came, she'd be fully prepared for labour. But she knew how insistent Harry could be, so maybe if she just did this for a second, they'd leave.

Taking a calming breath, Hermione closed her eyes and tried to picture a serene scene. She imagined she was walking in the streets of London during a light downpour, an umbrella over her head as she sidestepped puddles, the smell of rain in the air. She could even picture the bustling pedestrians and the-

"You're doing good," Harry praised.

And that brought her immediately out of her daydream and she realised she was back at Dr. Brian's Lamaze class with Harry pressed against her back as they sat on an exercise mat. All hopes of staying relaxed flew out the window and she felt herself tense up.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, but Hermione was already trying to untangle herself from him.

"I relaxed my muscles, can we go now?" she asked, slightly out of breath.

Harry stood up, helping her to her feet and Hermione ignored the slight frown on his face. She waved over her instructor.

"Leaving already?" Dr. Brian asked with a smile.

"Yes, I'm feeling a bit fatigued," Hermione replied.

"That's British for I'm feeling a bit horny," Shirley whispered to Jane but it was loud enough for just about everyone to hear. It was a good thing Shirley was a Muggle, because Hermione was very much tempted to put a jinx on her - perhaps one that would clamp her mouth shut?

Instead, she prayed the floor would just open up and swallow her whole, not only because she was embarrassed at what Shirley had said, but more because it was a lot closer to the truth then she liked.

"Your due date is close," Dr. Brian said, acting as if she hadn't heard the remark, before turning to Harry, "You'll make sure she gets rest, Harry?"

"Yep, as soon as we get home I'm putting her to bed," Harry promised, draping an arm around Hermione and squeezing her shoulders affectionately.

"I live three blocks from here, mind putting me to bed Harry?" Shirley asked, batting her eyelids.

"Really, Miss Brown," Dr. Burns chided. "What sort of message are you sending to your unborn baby?"

"That I'm trying to get him a dad?" Shirley replied with an eye roll.

"I'm afraid I can't. Hermione and I are married," Harry said. Hermione had to stop herself from gaping wide-eyed at him.

What was with Harry telling everyone about their ruse? How would she explain things once he went back to his life and she was a single mum?

"What?" Amber blurted out. "And we weren't invited?"

"We eloped," Harry replied easily. He looked like he was on a roll too.

"I don't blame you, Hermione, he looks like a keeper," Jane said.

"Um... Thanks," Hermione mumbled, and then she began pushing Harry towards the exit before he started saying more crazy things. "Well, bye - we really have to go."

There was a chorus of goodbyes and well wishes said behind them. Hermione, fingers grasping Harry's sleeve, continued to tug him as she stalked down the passage towards the elevators.

"Hermione, what's the rush?" Harry asked, catching up to her.

Hermione didn't feel much like talking at that point so she said nothing as she strode over to the elevator. She pressed the down button angrily.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked. It seemed he really was oblivious to his actions and how they'd affect her.

"No," Hermione answered. She nearly sighed in relief when the lift opened and it was empty.

"Really? Because you look angry."

"I'm not angry," Hermione snapped, knowing her remark wasn't supporting her argument.

"You are!" Harry accused. "Why?"

She pressed the button for the ground floor, then snapped her head round to face him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Because you keep telling everyone we're married when we're not!" she exclaimed, angry that he could be so dense.

"So?" Harry retorted, and she saw the stubborn glint in his eyes. "We could get married, right now even. We could floo straight to Las Vegas or wherever and get married,"

Hermione blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. "We can't," she said finally. She was annoyed that Harry would even make such a crazy suggestion.

He leaned over and stopped the lift. "Why not?"

Moving away from him, Hermione hugged herself.

"Because-"

She stalled trying to collect her thoughts. "People just don't get married!" she blurted.

"What do they do then?" Harry asked.

"They get to know each other, go on dates... I don't know, just stuff, okay!" Hermione exclaimed.

She was uncomfortable with where this conversation was going and desperately hoped that Harry would just drop it.

"We know each other, heck, I think you know me better than anyone else does," Harry argued. "And dates? We can go on date if that's what you want."

Hermione shook her head, incredulous at the way Harry was trying to simplify everything. She could feel her ire rising, hating how Harry was tempting her with something she'd wanted for so long and not even realising it. Didn't he realise she wanted him to love her first? Not just get caught up in their masquerade only to regret it in a couple of years, maybe even months from now.

"Harry, you're in love with Ginny," she pointed out. Even though it hurt, she knew it was something she had to remind him.

"And what, you're in love with the father of your child?" Harry demanded.

Hermione swallowed thickly as she averted her gaze from Harry's intense one. She obviously loved Harry, they'd been friends for years now. She knew him when he was a scrawny kid with too big glasses on. She knew his nightmares - she had even lived them. She wouldn't deny her attraction towards him either, but did that mean she was _in _love with him?

She silently pondered on this, trying to mull things over in her mind. During their final fight, Ron had said, "Yes, Hermione, I know you love me, but sometimes I can't help but wonder if your heart was ever mine to claim!" Of course, she'd vehemently denied loving anyone else then – although they'd still broken up.

And hadn't it been Harry who she'd ran to afterwards, and Harry who she'd slept with?

She might have denied it then, but things were different now. She knew that the whole reason she kept this secret from him had been because she didn't want to ruin his and Ginny's relationship. She had sacrificed her own happiness to ensure he maintained his. And now she realised that if that wasn't love then really she didn't know what was.

It was painful to admit and would only lead to misery for herself, but it was too late to avoid falling in love with Harry. She didn't even know when she had started falling.

"Look, you don't have to answer," Harry said, after the silence had stretched a bit. He obviously took her silence as confirmation, not even knowing that he was the father of her child. "Just... I think we could be happy, Hermione, and I-" He stopped when he noticed the frown on Hermione's face. "What's wrong?"

Hermione acted impulsively grabbing his hand and placing it on her belly. "Can you feel that?" she asked, animated as she momentarily forgot everything else.

"Feel?" Harry stopped as he felt a thud against his hand and his eyes widened. "Is that-"

"Yep, she's letting us know she's also here," Hermione answered. She saw the emotion in Harry's eyes as he stared in wonder and it made her gut twist painfully. Maybe keeping it from him wasn't such a good idea after all. She wasn't so sure anymore, but she knew it really was time to start evaluating her decision.

Her child wouldn't be the first child to have parents who weren't together. Maybe she had been selfish to try and protect her own heart rather than her baby's best interests?

"This is amazing," Harry muttered, a grin on his face. "Blimey 'Mione, it's just amazing."

She gulped uneasily, trying to maintain her smile. "I swear she hasn't kicked this much before," she murmured.

"Yeah, well, it's probably not every day she has to impress Harry Potter," Harry joked before he reluctantly removed his hand.

"I guess."

"Hermione, look, I-"

"Harry, we should go," Hermione interrupted, pressing the button to release the lift. She was afraid she'd start blurting the whole ugly truth if they remained in this lift much longer. If she did decide to tell him the truth, it wouldn't be in an elevator where she had little space to hide from his anger.

"Hermione," - she felt Harry's hand on her chin as he gently turned her to face him - "I'm sorry."

Hermione frowned, confused. "For what?"

"For this."

And before she could say anything, he pressed his lips firmly against hers. Her gasp of surprise gave him the entry he sort to slide his tongue in her mouth. The rational thing to do would be to push away, but Hermione wasn't thinking rationally right now.

She was drowning and Harry's shoulders were her only anchors.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note: **I just wanted to thank all my awesome readers- especially the reviewers, the feedback for this story has exceeded even my expectations! This is the longest chapter yet and I reckon it's the one most, if not all of you have been waiting for.

A special thanks to **Spinning Round on a Carousel** for her amazing editing work on this story.

This chapter is also a bit fluffy, I laid it kinda thick. But I'm hoping you'll enjoy it and as always reviews are welcome.

HRH

Harry pulled back once the burning in his lungs became unbearable. Hermione's mouth formed a surprised 'O' as she slowly opened her eyes. He knew she was probably already thinking of a way to diffuse the situation. Sometimes he loved how smart Hermione was - other times, he just wished for a moment of blind stupidity.

"Harry-"

"Don't say a word," he panted. His mind was racing, yet he had never felt more composed. "We won't say anything. We are going to get out the lift, then drive back home in absolute silence."

Hermione just blinked at him in confusion, so he tightened his hold on her shoulders.

"Hermione, I want you to not think for the next 30 minutes - can you do that?" he asked, his voice tinged with desperation.

She looked as though she was about to speak.

"No speaking, remember?" he reminded her. He knew he was probably scaring her a bit – hell, he was scaring himself.

Slowly, Hermione nodded her head, though her eyes still looked slightly glazed over. My kiss did that to her, rendered Hermione Granger silent, Harry thought. If his nerves weren't so wound up, he'd allow himself a smile at the achievement. Instead, he gripped Hermione's hand and released the elevator.

Everything seemed to take twice as long: leaving the building, getting into the car. It took Harry several attempts to get a grip on the car keys, but Hermione didn't seem to notice. She was probably in some sort of state of shock, so Harry had to act fast before it wore off and she came to her senses. He drove like a mad man, thankful that because of the lateness of the hour, there were fewer cars on the roads.

When he finally parked the car inside the garage, he all but leapt out, dashing to opening the passenger door. He helped Hermione out, trying to be gentle as he pulled her along into the house, past the dimly lit rooms. It was silent; it seemed that Vivian and William had already retired. Harry released a sigh he hadn't even realised he'd been holding. The walk up the stairs was a little slower - he didn't want to risk tripping and hurling both of them down the stairs.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity (which in actual fact was just over 30 minutes), they entered Hermione's room. With a firm shove, Harry closed the door behind them and before he could over-think the idea, he pulled off his t-shirt and spun Hermione around and into his arms.

The thing about spending the best years of your adolescence trying to evade a psychotic serial killer is that you don't get time to enjoy a lot of firsts. Sure, there had been Cho - but then things hadn't ended well and that whole returning-with-the-body-of-the-love-of-her-life thing didn't help much either. Then there had been Ginny, who had grown in confidence and introduced him to the first stirs of jealousy.

But other than a few other casual flings during the time in between his numerous breaking up and getting back together with Ginny, Harry's experience with the opposite sex was a bit lacking. The only thing he had going for him was to be direct and hope his sexual prowess more than made up for the fact that he wasn't affectionate.

He pulled Hermione flush against him, leaned down and captured her lips again. Her lips were achingly soft, and for one crazy moment, he feared in his passion he might devour them. Kissing Hermione was a lot like how he'd always fantasised how his first kiss would be: slow and sweet, with just a hint of urgency. He never wanted this moment to-

Abruptly Harry pulled back, glasses slightly askew and brow furrowed in confusion. Something had hit his stomach. Then he felt it again, perhaps more stronger, strong enough for Hermione's eyes to flicker open with surprise.

"Is that-?"

"At least one of us is thinking rationally," Hermione murmured, rubbing absently at her stomach.

It didn't take a genius to realise that the moment was probably over, but Harry was reluctant to concede defeat even as Hermione untangled herself from his arms and went to perch herself on the bed.

"Merlin, what were we thinking?!" Hermione exclaimed, fingers raking though her hair. "I could give birth any day now!"

"You aren't right now," Harry replied without thinking. He could have kicked himself as the words spilled out of his mouth. He sounded like some randy teenager trying to get laid, not a guy who was trying to convince a woman to give him a chance.

Smooth, Potter, real smooth.

"What kind of reasoning is that?" Hermione demanded, looking incredulous.

The moment had definitely been killed, Harry thought unhappily.

"That didn't come out right," he said quickly. "What I meant is... Erm... Well, I don't know actually," he admitted, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

"I think I'm going to take a bath, then go straight to bed," Hermione began in a calm voice as she hefted herself onto her feet. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off, "And no, you aren't going to watch over me while I bathe." Harry was sure he heard her mutter the word 'perv' as she waddled towards the bathroom.

Despite pulling at his hair in frustration, Harry really couldn't blame her. Propositioning pregnant women was probably illegal in some countries, he thought glumly as he threw himself onto Hermione's bed. He needed to think, to clear his mind a bit. Preferably before he did any more damage.

As he stared at the ceiling, he heard the water start in the bathroom. Had he really asked Hermione to go to Vegas with him? Really, had that stumbled out of his lips? Harry groaned. No wonder she was staring at him like he'd gone crazy - he was crazy, completely out-of-his-mind crazy. He was a madman, and all because of his best friend.

When did Hermione develop this power over him, he wondered, sitting up, hands resting on his thighs. Was Hermione right? Was he caught up in their little charade and nothing more? But then he remembered the feel of her in his arms, her hair tickling his nose as he tried to concentrate on the breathing exercises rather than her fragrance. In that moment he'd even allowed himself to believe that the happy moment was his. His pregnant wife, his baby...

Heaving a sigh, Harry stood up and walked to the closed bathroom door, leaning against it as he knocked lightly.

"Hermione?"

At first he thought she'd ignore him, but then she answered.

"I didn't slip to my death or anything," she said dryly, voice muffled by the door.

Harry scowled. "Don't even joke about something like that," he snapped, then caught himself. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap... It's just you know how I feel about death and-"

"No, I'm sorry, you're right."

Hermione apologising was one thing - her admitting the other person was right was another thing all together. He smirked in spite of himself.

"Sure you didn't hit your head?" he teased.

"Seriously, Potter?" she grumbled from the other side of the door.

"Just checking," he said, knowing the tension had probably dissipated.

"Look, Mione, I'm just going downstairs for a bit - do you need anything?"

"Just a slice of chocolate cake, please," she replied. "It's in the fridge."

"Okay, I-"

"Also, could you sprinkle some nuts on it – ooh, and some cream?"

Harry grinned. "Erm, sure, I'll-"

"And an orange too."

"What do you need an orange for?" Harry blurted out before he could stop himself.

"Maybe I'd like some vitamin C with my meal," Hermione said sarcastically, "or maybe I'm pregnant and have all these odd cravings - or maybe, just maybe, you want oranges falling on your head!"

Harry glanced at the ceiling just to make sure no oranges were worming their way down.

"Sorry, I'll get the oranges," he said quickly, in an attempt to appease her.

"Bring syrup," Hermione muttered.

Harry made the smart move of not asking why. He made his way silently down the passage, noting the guest bedroom's lights were off. Vivian and William were already asleep. He was glad that they hadn't witnessed his failed seduction. He took the steps, not bothering with the lights, instead trusting his instincts to lead him to Hermione's study.

Once inside, he closed the door and took a seat behind her desk. Using the charm he had learnt several years ago, he waited as the flame flickered for a moment before a rather surprised face appeared.

"What in Merlin's beard?" Sirius' face appeared in the fire. He blinked several times. "Merlin, Harry is that you?" he asked.

"Yes, I-"

"It's the middle of the bloody night!" Sirius exclaimed. Then his eyes widened. "Is Hermione in labour? That's why you called? I should probably-"

"Slow down, Sirius, no one is giving birth," Harry hastily assured him with a wry grin.

His godfather looked disappointed.

"Oh," he muttered.

Harry brushed his hair back, leaning on his elbows. "I actually need your advice," he admitted, collecting his thoughts. He'd never been good at this sort of stuff. "It's about Hermione and me."

"You aren't in some sort of trouble, are you?" Sirius asked. "Because there's this whole secret baby shower planned for you two tomorrow at the Burrow."

"Secret baby shower?" Harry asked, slightly disbelieving. His friends sure worked fast.

"Not so secret anymore," Sirius admitted ruefully, before returning to the subject in hand. "So, what's the problem?"

"See, the thing is a couple of days ago Hermione asked me for a favour..."

Slowly, he told Sirius the whole story, right up until the moment in Hermione's room just a few moments ago. His godfather for his part kept quiet throughout the whole narration.

"Hermione isn't the type to just get pregnant so there's probably a story there," Sirius mused. "You have no idea who the father is?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "I don't think it's Ron. I mean, they broke up a while ago - but then that means I probably don't even know the git," he said.

What kind of sick bastard got someone like Hermione pregnant than just left her to fend for herself? If Harry ever got his hand on the stupid git, there would be a series of Unforgiveables coming their way, Azkaben be damned.

"Do you even care?" Sirius asked. "Do you mind that the kid isn't yours?"

Did he care, Harry wondered, was there a chance that he did? Then he remembered the Lamaze class. Being there with Hermione had felt so... right. He had even allowed himself to pretend it was his kid growing inside her. Of course, that thought had then somehow taken a somewhat lewd turn, because then he had started imagining him and Hermione procreating...

… Which had led to the whole lift incident.

"No, I don't," he answered truthfully. And suddenly he knew this wasn't just some flight of fancy. He wanted this, really wanted it.

"I had a feeling you didn't," Sirius said with a smile. His face became serious again. "But Harry, this is a life changing thing. I don't doubt you can handle it, but are you really ready for it?"

Harry didn't even have to think about it.

"Yes."

"What makes you so certain?"

"Because I think I'm falling for Hermione." The words fell out his mouth and he realised their implication at about the same time Sirius did.

"Well, just as long as you don't tell her that you think and don't know," he advised with a grin.

Harry's lips also twisted into a wary smile. Knowing Hermione, she wouldn't settle for anything less – but then, he reflected, she deserved nothing but.

"So what you going to do now, Hamlet?" Sirius asked.

Harry frowned. "Shouldn't it be Romeo?" he asked.

"You're all tortured, I think Hamlet suits you," his godfather replied. "Besides, I don't want to give you any crazy ideas. We both know how that play ended."

Shaking his head, Harry grinned at Sirius. "You're a real romantic, you know?"

"Hence why I'm still a bachelor at my age," Sirius agreed. "So, plans?"

"I'm taking Hermione out on a date," Harry stated confidently.

"A date? Isn't it a bit too late for that?"

"Nope. I'm trying to doing things right."

"Good luck."

"Thanks. I have a feeling I'll probably need it."

/

The next morning, Harry was surprised to find that Hermione had woken up before him. Maybe the needles had finally gotten to her, he thought with a wry smile. After taking a shower and dressing quickly, Harry made his way downstairs. He found Hermione in the kitchen with an apron on, measuring flour.

"Morning," he said, coming to stand beside her. After his talk with Sirius, he'd returned to their bedroom, Hermione's order in hand. They'd talked about everything but what had occurred or their feelings.

Harry was hoping today would change that.

"Morning," Hermione murmured back. "Could you hand me that bowl?" she asked, waving distractedly at somewhere behind him.

Harry spotted the bowl with the egg and milk mixture inside. "Waffles?' he asked as he placed it within Hermione's reach.

She shook her head. "Pancakes," she replied, sifting the flour into a much bigger bowl. Harry watched her as she added the milk mixture. Her hair had been put into a messy ponytail, loose tendrils framing her face.

Her face was scrubbed clean; it made her look even younger than she usually did. Harry wanted to touch her face, but somehow he had a feeling it would seem weird. He settled for tucking back a few loose strands of her hair.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, her eyes never straying from her task.

"Nothing," he said, aware how defensive he sounded.

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him. "You better not be trying to be fresh," she warned.

"Hermione!"

"Just saying," she said, folding in the eggs to the flour, then whisking the batter.

As they were alone, Harry decided to broach the subject of going to Diagon Alley together.

"So I was thinking that maybe we should go to Diagon Alley before going to the Burrow," he started.

Hermione paused. "The Burrow?" she asked.

"Yeah, apparently there's a surprise baby shower for us... Well, you, technically," Harry explained.

"Not much of a surprise," Hermione mused, before glancing up at him. "You want us to go to Diagon Alley?"

"Well, you haven't been to the Wizarding World in a while and maybe some fresh air will do you good."

"So basically like a date?"

Sometimes Hermione was too smart for her own good. "Well, we're already 'married' so maybe it's more like a refresher course than a date," he tried.

"You've never taken me on a date," Hermione pointed out.

"Okay, it's a date then..."

Hermione smiled, though she tried to hide it behind a cough.

"Oh, I nearly forgot," she said, reaching for something on the counter, "this came for you earlier." She handed a letter to him.

"Oh yeah - I kind of asked Miss Quick to forward my letters here. I hope you don't mind?" Harry said, accepting the letter and sliding a finger under the flap to open it.

"No, I don't."

He scanned the contents of the letter, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Something wrong?" Hermione asked, peering over and trying to see at the letter.

"Not really. It's from Robards," he said with a frown. "He's got a case that he wants me to work on."

"I thought they fired you?"

Harry wasn't surprised Hermione was privy to that knowledge. The entire Wizarding World was. Apparently, the news of Harry-Potter-the-boy-who-defeated-You-Know-Who getting axed from a job he seemed destined for was quite the story.

"They did, but I'm sort of freelance now," Harry replied.

Of course, that was an understatement. He was more like the guy the ministry went to whenever a big case was threatening the Wizarding World's safety. But Harry tended to brush over that part of the explanation.

Hermione nodded in understanding. "So what's this case about?" she asked.

In all their years together, Ginny had never really shown an interest in his occupation as an Auror so Harry had got into the habit of keeping things related to his job to himself. So having Hermione ask him like it was a normal thing took him aback slightly. Then again, Hermione had fought beside him several times, and nothing would really ever surprise her.

"There's some unusual magical activity around..." Harry's trailed off as he glanced over the parchment to check, "Scotland."

"Are you going to take the case?" she asked him.

A month ago, heck, even a week ago, he wouldn't have even hesitated. But things were different now, his life seemed to have done a complete 180 in just a few days. He glanced over at her. "Would you mind if I went?" he asked, hoping he sounded casual.

Hermione shrugged. "I mean, there's nothing keeping you here, right?" she asked him, just as casual.

Trust Hermione to answer with another question. He sighed, folding the letter. "You know that's not true," he said.

"Harry-"

"How anyone is expected to sleep with this racket is beyond me," Vivian declared as she entered the kitchen, already dressed for the day.

"Good morning, Grandmother. Did you sleep well?" Harry asked, standing up to help Vivian into her seat.

He ignored Hermione's pointed look.

"As can be expected," Vivian sniffed. "What with all the noise you two were making this morning... and last night."

"What noise?" Hermione asked, turning to her pancakes.

"I wasn't born yesterday, Hermione Jean, but really, a little courtesy to your guests would be nice," she chided them.

Harry busied himself with pouring Vivian a glass of orange juice. "I'm sorry, Grandmother, I guess we got carried away," he said.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, not liking what he was implying.

Harry shrugged apologetically, though he couldn't hide his mischievous grin.

"Thank you, Harry, you are quite thoughtful," Vivian said, patting his hand. Hermione gave an unladylike snort. "Something the matter, Hermione?" she asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Everything's fine, Grandmother," she said over her shoulder.

"So will William be joining us?' Harry asked, glancing expectantly at the entrance for the older man.

Vivian shook her head as she daintily sipped her juice. "I'm afraid he thought it was intruders last night and the poor thing worked himself into a tired heap."

Harry could just imagine William brandishing his sword, all the while Vivian trying to reassure him in her patient manner. The sight had probably been rather comical. Then he remembered his and Hermione's plans for the day.

"Grandmother, I was wondering if I could steal Hermione for the day today," he began.

"You two are young, I suppose it's only natural that you'd want to spend time alone. No matter how improper it is with guests," Vivian remarked.

"If it's any consolation, Gretchen promised to spend the day with you and William. Perhaps you could go sightseeing?" Harry suggested.

"You are aware that we're English? Not tourists? Nothing London has, we haven't seen before," Vivian stated dryly. "And who is this Gretchen?"

"Gretchen is a good friend of mine," Hermione said, placing a plate filled with the pancakes on the table. "I think you met her the other day – the girl with colourful hair?"

"Can she be trusted?" Vivian asked, obviously doubtful.

"Of course," Hermione said, glancing at Harry to second her opinion. He did, even if it was only to placate both women.

"So where are you off too?" Vivian asked, glancing between them.

"Just a small, old part of London," Hermione lied. "Quaint, barely noticeable. I'm certain you and Grandfather wouldn't like it."

/

"Harry, I don't think going to Diagon Alley is such a good idea," Hermione protested as she put on lipstick. "I mean, the whole of the Wizarding World probably read Rita's article." Note to self: concoct Rita's punishment, she mentally reminded herself as she spun around on her chair.

"So?" Harry asked, pulling on his shirt with absolutely no regard for the hormones raging inside Hermione. Really, the man has to stop advertising his chiselled chest before he gets attacked by a lewd heavily pregnant woman, Hermione mused

"So?" she repeated. "Harry, it's probably all anyone is talking about. You aren't seeing the bigger picture."

"Hermione, I'm failing to see why that's such a big deal," Harry staid, glancing around. "Have you seen my shoes?" he asked, padding around with his socks.

"You fail to see why it's such a big deal?" Hermione asked, perplexed. "Harry, this thing has got way out of hand!"

Didn't he understand how this lie could potentially ruin everything? It was already obvious that she'd have to tell him the truth, but this whole thing was forcing her hand. The whole Wizarding World might even learn of her lie.

Harry muttered a Summoning Charm, his shoes dropping before him. "What's out of hand is your shoes," he remarked, shuffling into his own. "Are those heels really practical?" he asked, eyeing them warily.

Of course, Harry couldn't understand why it was important for Hermione to look good. He wasn't the one who was bloated and would be receiving the scrutinising looks.

"Firstly, they're wedges and secondly, they aren't that high," she answered. "And they are practical, seeing as there is no danger of me toppling over them and falling."

If everyone would be staring at them, Hermione needed to at least be assured that she wouldn't be totally unattractive. Hence why she'd settled on a lovely pale yellow summer dress, paired with white wedges laced with yellow ribbons. It wasn't too much, but it was modest and flattering for someone who was pregnant.

"Obviously you're not falling over, I won't allow it," Harry said. "I'm just concerned about your feet."

Hermione's eyes widened. He'd noticed how bloated they were? "You think they're bloated!" she screeched.

Harry looked confused. "Of course not," he said quickly. "Just that they might ache. Hermione, we are going to be in town for most of the day," he reminded her patiently.

"So?"

Harry smirked, eyes dancing with amusement. "So, you aren't seeing the bigger picture," he replied.

Hermione threw her hairbrush at him.

/

Harry had always wondered how animals at the zoo felt, being constantly looked at. He wondered no more.

He was used to people staring at him, but this was a little too much even for him. Witches and wizards alike had already stopped them several times to take pictures with them. Well, not with them, exactly, but with Hermione's baby bump. And every time, Hermione had shot him a discreet glare.

"I don't even get it, it's not like you can even see the baby," Hermione said after she'd been asked for another picture. So far, their trip to Diagon Alley had felt more like an exhibition rather than a date.

"Well you are _the_ Hermione Granger," he reminded her, pressing a kiss to her hair.

"And according to Skeeter, pregnant with the next Harry Potter," she grumbled, burying her face in his chest. "Do you think we can avoid going to Molly's?" she asked him, voice muffled.

As wonderful as the idea was, Harry knew it was something they couldn't avoid. It was bad enough that they found out about the pregnancy via a newspaper.

"Sorry, love, but it's..."

His voice trailed off, and he knew by Hermione's tense reaction that she had heard the endearment.

He'd really put his foot in it now.

"Hermione-"

"Look, a baby shop!" Hermione exclaimed, cutting him off. "Let's see what they have!" She was already pulling him into the shop.

Harry reluctantly decided to allow her to change the subject. From what he'd seen of the nursery, he doubted there was anything Hermione needed. He told her as much as they entered the shop.

"There's no such thing," Hermione scoffed.

From the outside, like most shops in Diagon Alley, it had looked like a quaint little shop, but once inside, a vast and high edifice was revealed. There were pastel colours everywhere, baby furniture, toys, clothes and the like.

Harry had never known babies could need so many things.

"Look at this!" Hermione exclaimed, showing him a dark navy pram that looked more like a miniature automobile than something you'd carry a baby in. "It even has cup holders!"

"Yes, because nothing screams 'pram' louder than cup holders," Harry remarked dryly. He got a slap on the arm for that.

"Seriously, sometimes-"

"I thought I smelled something foul," they heard a nasal voice say behind them.

Harry knew that voice anywhere. He turned around, regarding the other man coolly.

"Malfoy."

"Potter, Granger," Draco acknowledged sourly. "I heard the rumours, but I'd hoped it was just another bad dream..."

There was something to be said about growing up. Rather than take Malfoy's bait, Harry had learned that sometimes no reaction was the best reaction to such situations.

"Well, now you know," he quipped with a slightly forced smile.

Draco sniffed indignantly. "Why anyone should care about the birth of a half-blood is beyond me," he said darkly, "especially when purebloods of far more importance are being born."

Harry was ready to abandon being the grown up, but Hermione's calming hand on his arm stopped him.

"A lot seems to be beyond you, Malfoy," she remarked. "But what are you doing here?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Draco said meanly, before he spun on his heel, storming towards the exit. The blue package with a white rattle picture was not lost on either of them.

"You don't think-?" Hermione began, sharing a look with Harry.

Harry shrugged. "He is married, Hermione," he said, just as the shop assistant walked up to them.

"Hi! It's such an honour having you in our shop! Do you need any help?" she asked eagerly, beaming up at them.

"Well, we were just looking at this pram," Hermione began.

"Oh, the Baby Firebolt 09?" the assistant gushed.

Harry exchanged a look with Hermione. 'Firebolt?' he mouthed at her, suddenly much more enamoured with the object. She just rolled her eyes.

"Yes," she said to the assistant.

"Well, this is our latest pram, not only is it twice as fast as 08, but it's also equipped with several protective charms," the assistant explained.

"Charms?" Harry asked.

"Well, of course - you'd be surprised at how many accidents this pram has prevented," the assistant replied. "From kidnappers to oil slicks..."

"Sounds like the ultimate pram. I mean, I wouldn't want my pram skidding over all those oil slicks I encounter," Hermione said.

The assistant beamed. It seemed that only Harry had heard the sarcasm in Hermione's words. "Exactly!" she agreed.

"We'll take it," Harry said.

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "We are?" she asked.

Harry shrugged. "'Mione, it's the Baby Firebolt 09," he said, trying to suppress his laughter.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

The assistant, Whitney, took their order, all the while encouraging them to take a look at the rest of the products they had to offer.

"You only bought it because it's the best pram they have," Hermione said as they moved down the aisles, glancing at the vast assortment of baby products on display.

"What's wrong with that?" Harry asked. "You were gushing over it too!"

"I don't gush."

"Yes, you do - your eyes even go all glassy."

Hermione snorted as she picked up an onesie in Gryffindor colours. "Harry, look at this," she all but cooed, holding it up for his inspection.

Harry grinned. "It's great - but Mione, I think you're carrying a Slytherin... Call it a hunch," he teased.

Pressing the onesie to her chest, Hermione glared at him. "If that Sorting Hat wants to see many more years to come, it will be singing a whole different tune," she said.

Chuckling, Harry looped his arm over her shoulders. "Hermione, you can't force fate," he told her.

"Watch me," she retorted.

They continued down the aisles. Hermione not relinquishing her hold on the onesie. A while later, Harry spotted something white and fluffy. He picked up the stuffed toy. It was a white rabbit with a gold ribbon tied around its neck. It brought images of a baby with his eyes, clutching it to her chest.

"That's beautiful," Hermione commented, feeling the soft fur. Harry watched her fawning over the cuddly toy, noting the sheen in her eyes, the smile curving her lips, her hair falling in thick curls around her face.

"Breathtaking," he murmured, eyes solely on Hermione.

She caught his gaze, a red, becoming blush making her face look flushed. Harry could have kissed her then if not for the assistant popping up again.

"So, how's the shopping going?" Whitney asked them. "It's not like everyday celebrities come shopping here," she joked.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Splendid," he replied dryly. "Like your timing," he added under his breath.

/

Hermione suppressed another grimace, refusing to let it show, but Harry, ever observant, noticed.

"There's a sandal shop two stores from here," he whispered.

Clenching her jaw, Hermione said through gritted teeth, "And why are you telling me this?"

"You look like you're in pain," Harry said, giving her a knowing look.

He was right of course; her ankles were killing her, and not to mention her back - but Hermione was stubborn, definitely too stubborn to admit it.

"I'm not in pain," she lied, concealing a whimper.

"Hermione, you're lying."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not. This is my happy face," she pressed on, not ready to admit defeat.

"Your 'happy face'?" Harry asked, clearly not believing it for even one second.

Hermione nodded. "Yep - can't you see this huge smile?" she asked, hoping her smile wasn't the grimace she was feeling.

Harry heaved a sigh. "You're bloody stubborn, you know?" he remarked.

Hermione huffed. "So I've been told," she retorted.

"Well, I tried to make it easy for you," Harry warned.

"Make what easy?" Hermione asked.

Harry grinned and before Hermione could protest, he picked her up, one arm under her knees and the other supporting her back. Hermione was mortified; she was sure that any moment, they would both come crashing down.

And as if that wasn't bad enough, cameras started flashing around them. The press was really having a field day with this.

"Harry," she hissed. He seemed oblivious to her as he strode confidently towards Betty's Boutique. "Harry, put me down," she ordered, trying to squirm out of his hold.

"Hermione, if you don't stop squirming I'll really give these people something to look at," he told her under his breath, his smile never faltering.

Hermione stopped.

/

Harry exchanged a wary look with the waiter as Hermione made her order.

"So two scoops of chocolate ice cream, plus melted butter, sprinkled with crushed peanuts and dripped with syrup?" the waiter asked, making sure he had everything down.

"You forgot the cream," Hermione added impatiently, "don't forget the cream."

"Erm, yes... Right... Cream," the waiter said, scribbling further into his notepad. "And for your meal?"

Harry watched as Hermione squinted in concentration. Her nose was scrunched up and to him, it made her look adorable.

"A burger with melted cheese," she said finally.

"You mean a hamburger with melted cheese?" the water inquired.

Hermione shook her head. "No. Just the patty with melted cheese - no buns or lettuce or tomato or-"

"Leave the buns, but definitely add the lettuce, tomato and pickles," Harry interrupted.

"What?" Hermione demanded.

"Hermione, you need the vegetables," he told her.

If looks could kill, Harry was certain he'd be dead. He was slightly terrified by the scathing look he received, but outwardly, he remained unfazed.

"Fine, whatever," Hermione mumbled.

The waiter smiled, turning to Harry. "And you, sir? What will you be having?" he asked.

/

They'd already Apparated their purchases home, so when they arrived at the Burrow - Hermione back in her wedges due to her insistence – Harry, for the most part, was ready to face their friends.

Hermione... Not so much.

Her mood had seemed to drop after their late lunch and Harry had asked her about it. She'd insisted it was indigestion, but although Harry didn't believe her, he'd let the subject drop. Now standing inches from the back door, he reached out, grasping Hermione's hand in his.

"Ready?" he asked.

She took a calming breath before nodding. Harry squeezed her hand, then raised his hand to knock. He'd barely lifted his fist when the door swung open. Molly, looking flustered and her hair in an untidy bun, appeared on the door way. For a moment, no one said anything, then Molly's eyes glanced at the noticeable baby bump.

"Oh, Hermione!" she exclaimed, enveloping Hermione in a hug. When she finally released her, she gave Harry a similar embrace, before ushering them in. "Everyone is already here, but I was hoping to talk to you to first," Molly said, waving them towards seats at the kitchen table.

There were several pots on the stove as well as several dishes covered and placed all around; Molly had obviously not held back. Harry noticed how his surrogate mother looked between them, her nervous gestures not lost on either of them.

"You two are in a lot of trouble," she began, wagging a finger at them.

Somehow, Harry knew a scolding was coming.

"I mean, to get married and then fall pregnant without telling anyone?" Molly demanded. "Really, how irresponsible! Hermione, I'll forgive because of the hormones - but you, Harry?" She paused, her disappointment quite clear. "Well, I expected better. I consider you family, both of you, and to keep something like this? Well, frankly, it really hurts."

Molly really knew how to make him feel like an idiot, Harry thought, already slouching slightly in his seat. Of course, her anger was completely justified - she probably thought they'd done it intentionally.

"Mrs Weasley-"

"Don't you 'Mrs Weasley' me, young man!" Molly chided, hands on hips. She continued to glare at them for a good while, before speaking again. "You look ashamed of yourselves," she commented eventually.

"We are," Harry and Hermione said simultaneously.

"As you should be," she agreed. She sighed. "Well, now that's off my chest, I want to congratulate the two of you. Of course, I'd always hoped that you'd each be marrying into the Weasley family, but I'm making my peace with that, granted that you promise me one thing."

"Anything," Harry said, grateful to have Molly's approval. She and Arthur were like parents to him and he always tried to make them proud.

Molly leaned in, a serious expression on her face. "Next time you get her pregnant, I had better be the first to know!" she warned them.

Harry didn't need to glance at Hermione to know she'd turned red. "I promise, Mum," he said sincerely.

Molly seemed satisfied with his answer. "Good then. Now run along, everyone is waiting for you two," she said, shooing them out of her kitchen.

"'I promise, Mum'?" Hermione demanded as they exited the kitchen, careful to keep her voice low.

"I'm a man of my word," Harry said, grinning at her, not even attempting to dodge her playful swat to his chest.

"Seriously, Potter, you're whipped," Dean said as he came to greet them. He gave Hermione a hug, before shaking Harry's hand.

It looked as if just about every friend they had was there. The Burrow was literally packed, not to mention all the decorations and gifts stacked around them.

"I'm not whipped!" Harry protested.

"Yeah, you are, mate," Seamus agreed. "Not that it's a bad thing," he quickly added when Hermione raised an eyebrow at him just as Fred and George came over.

"Besides, now that you're the Wizarding World's answer to Posh and Becks-"

"Wizarding World's answer to what?" Harry asked Fred.

The twins grinned. "According to Rita Skeeter, you two are the Posh and Becks of the Wizarding World," George answered.

Hermione groaned. "That woman..."

"Yep," Fred agreed. "Though instead of moving clubs, Harry got fired instead," he quipped.

"I wasn't fired!"

"Oh yeah - they let you go," George concurred with sarcasm.

Soon Harry and Hermione found themselves receiving well wishes while dodging the more... inconvenient questions.

Harry spotted Ron on the far side of the room, and after leaving Hermione in Fleur's capable hands - she'd been busy giving Hermione parenting tips - he made his way over to his best friend, only to be intercepted by his uncle.

"You look like a man in love," Sirius commented, steering Harry towards the doors to the patio and away from the noise and chatter.

Harry grinned. "And you got all this from one glance?" he asked as they stood outside, making a mental note to search for Ron afterwards.

Sirius shrugged. "It's just I've seen that look before," he admitted with a wistful smile.

"Huh?"

"Your dad had the same look when he was with Lily," Sirius said.

A sense of melancholy arose. Harry's thoughts couldn't help but stray to his parents - would they be happy with his choices? How would his mother feel about Hermione?

"Your mum would have loved Hermione, you know," Sirius said, seemingly reading Harry's thoughts. "I can just imagine all the genius speak that would be coming out of their mouths during conversations," he added with a grin.

Harry smiled at the thought. His godfather was probably right.

"So," Sirius began in an attempt to lift the somber mood, "thought of any baby names yet?" He was trying to keep his tone casual, though he couldn't completely hide his eagerness.

Sighing, Harry shook his head. He wasn't even sure yet if Hermione would allow him to remain in the baby's life once it was born.

"Well, luckily not all of us have been so lax," Sirius began. "I've thought of three names," he said, holding up three fingers. "The first name is..." He allowed a dramatic pause before he continued: "Sirius." He paused again. "Now, I know it's a bit presumptuous and quite a name to carry, but I think it could work."

Noting that his godfather looked quite serious, Harry resisted the urge to laugh. "Okay, and the second and third?" he asked, thankful for the lightening of the mood.

"The second is Siruus and the third is Siruuus," his godfather said, looking rather pleased with himself. "I know it's difficult to choose, what with all the u's and all, but again, this should not be seen as a hindrance."

No kidding, Harry thought. He shook his head in amusement. "And what if it's a girl?" he asked.

That seemed to catch Sirius off-guard, his smile faltering slightly – but only moments later, it was replaced with a huge grin. "Siriusa! Notice the 'a' at the end?

Harry laughed, now unable to stop himself.

"It's original," Sirius pointed out.

Harry shook his head as he heard approaching feet. "I'll talk it over with Hermione, but I can't make any promises," he said, just as Ron came out.

Sensing the tension between the two, Sirius made to leave. Just before he re-entered the house, he added, "Siriusa, it could work!"

A silence fell between Ron and Harry once Sirius had left. For a while, they just stood awkwardly, glancing anywhere but at each other.

"So... You and Hermione..." Ron began, tentatively breaking the silence.

Harry pushed his glasses back, a nervous habit. He opened his mouth to speak, but Ron continued, "And not only that, but you also broke my sister's heart... I think. I really should hate you."

"Ron-"

"But I don't, even though I am angry," Ron went on, cutting Harry off mid-sentence. "I'm angry you didn't tell me. Seriously Harry - were you going to wait until you were having the kid circumcised or something?" he demanded, turning to glare at him.

"We're not Jewish," Harry said, for lack of anything else to say, then added, "And it's a girl."

He and Ron stared at each other for a moment before the absurdity of Ron's comment hit them and they both released nervous chuckles. Well, it was a start at least.

"Blimey. I didn't even know," Ron said, slightly exasperated.

Harry felt guilty; Ron was his oldest friend, they were practically brothers and if this had been under different circumstances, Ron would have been the first to know. That's why Harry hated lying so much – all that happens is that you wind up hurting the people closest to you in order to preserve the lie.

More than anything, he wished he could tell Ron the whole crazy story and get his perspective on things. But he'd made a promise to Hermione - and no offense to Ron, but he wasn't exactly the person he was trying to woo right now.

"I'm sorry, mate. I should have told you," Harry said solemnly.

"Bloody right, you should have!" the redhead exclaimed. "You cheated Dean, Seamus, Neville and I out of a stag party! Really, Harry, the one time it's perfectly acceptable for men to watch a stripper and you bail on us!"

Harry laughed. "You're angry that I cheated you out of tucking money into some girl's knickers?" he asked.

"It's the principle, Harry. And she would have wanted us to throw money on her."

"Well, I'm sorry for that too."

Ron smirked. "Not as sorry as you're going to be when we throw you a surprise belated stag party," he said, lowering his voice as if fearing to be overheard.

"Not much of a surprise, Ron," Harry deadpanned.

"Believe me, mate, it will be," he said cryptically, then his smile dropped. "Just do me one favour, Harry."

"What?"

"Talk to Gin, would you?" Ron asked, his hand on Harry's shoulder. "She's acting brave and all, but I think she's really getting the worse of it."

Harry could have slapped himself. He'd forgotten all about Ginny. He'd been so busy with his own problems that he'd completely forgotten about how she might be taking it all. Granted, she'd dumped him, but they had a past together and he owed her that much.

"Sure, I'll talk to her - and Ron?"

"Yeah?"

It was uncomfortable, but Harry had to ask. "Are we cool? I mean, you're really okay with it all?" he asked.

Ron scratched his head. "I'm not thinking of all the ways I can hex you, so yeah, we're cool," he agreed with a grin. "Just don't screw this up, Potter."

Harry smiled. "I won't," he promised.

/

After his talk with Ron, Harry was in lighter spirits. There was obviously still a lot to smooth out, but it was a start. Now all that was left was finding Hermione so that they could talk. Harry wasn't one for expressing himself particularly well, but he really wanted to give this his best shot. He couldn't afford to mess it up.

At first, he'd been confused about his feelings; Hermione was one of his best friends so obviously he cared deeply about her - but today had shown him a whole other side to his feelings for her. He'd like to say it was this week, but it had probably been long before that. They'd always been close and trusted each other unconditionally; he'd confided in Hermione about things he'd never told anyone else before, not even Ron.

Falling for Hermione had not been some sudden and unexpected explosion of love – instead, it had been like taking a long drive on a familiar path and it wasn't until he'd reached his destination that he realized he'd been heading there all along. Yet somehow, he doubted telling Hermione that would sweep her off her feet.

No girl wanted a declaration of love to include comparisons to paths or long drives, but simply saying, 'I love you' just wasn't enough. He'd have to show her some other way and Harry had an idea of how he'd do that. Now just to find said girl.

Harry took a turn, nearly walking into Luna. "Hey, Luna – have you seen Hermione?" he asked.

He was certain that Luna didn't mean to project such eerie vibes, but there was something about her gaze, as if she could see right through you, that scared almost everyone. Come to think of it, maybe they should have just set Luna's gaze on Voldemort – it might have saved them years and unnecessary deaths.

"Hermione?" she repeated. She blinked, glancing back to where she came from. "I believe she's in Ronald's old room," she replied lightly, a hint of a smile on her face.

Harry tried to hide his surprise, but Luna must have seen it. "I think it's because it's the only room vacant from prying eyes," she added. She patted him on the arm and walked away.

Of course that's why, Harry berated himself. He really had to work on his insecurity complex. If the stunt he pulled outside the restaurant was any indication, then he had serious work to do. Following Luna's advice, he took the stairs two at a time, trying to get there before he lost his nerve.

True to the younger girl's words, he found Hermione sitting on Ron's bed, a thoughtful expression on her face. At some point since he'd last seen her, she'd knotted her hair into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, a few stubborn strands framing her face. She was chewing on her bottom lip, eyes slightly narrowed in concentration.

Hermione was beautiful without even trying. He'd never stood a chance, Harry thought wryly as he stepped inside. The creaking floorboards alerted Hermione to his presence. Her head snapped up to look at him.

"I hope I'm not disturbing anything?" he teased, coming to sit next to her.

Hermione shook her head. "No, it's alright. I guess I just needed some time to escape the bustle downstairs," she said. "Did you know we had so many friends?"

Harry chuckled. "Sometimes I forget," he said. He glanced at Hermione and swallowed. Well, now seemed as good a time as any.

"Hermione-"

"Harry-"

They both spoke at the same time, then nervously laughed it off.

"You go first," Harry offered with a smile.

Hermione didn't return it; in fact, she looked close to tears. For a second, Harry saw red, wondering if someone had upset her. "Did someone say something?" he asked, unconsciously gripping her hand.

"No!" Hermione answered quickly. "But Harry... There's something important that I have to tell you."

Harry exhaled as the tension seeped out of him. He'd been ready to confront anyone who'd said something to hurt Hermione. He looked at her face; her eyes were glassy and her nose slightly blotchy.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his own worry hiking up as he tightened his hold on her hands. "Is it the baby?" he questioned, mind racing with a million possibilities.

Hermione shook her head. "No... I mean yes - I mean..." She stopped, taking a deep breath before looking up and holding his gaze. "Harry, remember in the lift when you asked me if I loved my baby's father?" she said eventually.

Harry swallowed, dread spreading inside of him. Something horrible was coming, he just knew it. From years of experience, he knew that whatever Hermione had to say would not be good. No one had ever delivered good news while looking tearful and misty eyed.

"Yeah?" he prodded, his voice sounding rough even to his own ears.

Hermione bit on her lower lip, blinking rapidly to stop the tears. "Harry, I do," she said softly.

"You do?"

She nodded, her tears finally spilling. "I do, Harry. I love him," she admitted shakily, "I've always loved him, even when I was with Ron, I-"

"Wait." Harry had to speak up - she wasn't making any sense. "You've always loved him? Even when you were with Ron?"

When she nodded, Harry thought the snapping in his chest and unbearable pain was his heart breaking, but then he also felt an uncontrollable anger. Who was this man who Hermione could love so much?

"Who is he?" His voice sounded hoarse; he couldn't even mask his hurt. He didn't even try, to be honest.

Hermione was trembling, her tears cascading unbidden down her cheeks. He hated seeing her like this, but he had to know. He dropped her hands, grasping her shoulders. "Hermione, who is he?"

"It's you."

His hearing wasn't failing him, it was gone completely, because he could have sworn that Hermione said something she really couldn't have.

"It's you, Harry," she repeated, sniffing and wiping her tears with the back of her hands.

Nothing was making sense. Hermione might as well have been talking in riddles. "How?" he managed thickly.

"Eight months ago, Fire Broom... The white dress..." Hermione began, voice shaking. "I'm so sorry, Harry, so sorry."

"That's impossible," Harry said. Somewhere at the back of his mind, a nagging voice told him that he was going into denial, but this lie didn't hurt as much as he suspected the truth would.

Hermione placed a trembling hand on his chest. "You deserve the truth, Harry..."

**I didn't lie - the chapter was getting too long. But the next chapter the truth finally comes out. This is also the last chance for any reader who still wants to give it a go at a guess.**

**Seeing as the next chapter will be coming after Xmas, I wanted to wish all my readers a Merry Christmas in advance! **


	8. Chapter 8

Part I

About 8 months ago...

It was official; Hermione Jean Granger was destined to spend the rest of her life alone. She just had to accept that she was going to be one of those highly successful women who end up alone - it was obviously in the stars and maybe if she hadn't turned her nose up at Professor Trelawney's predications, she might have gotten a warning in advance.

Here she was at the prime age of twenty six and her boyfriend of nearly a decade had walked out on her two months ago. Not to mention the fact that the git had killed Crookshanks - who even does that? Who kills a harmless, 10 pound cat? Did Ronald not know that in order to embrace her life as a spinster she'd need a cat? Everyone knew that! Grumbling in her misery, Hermione buried her face further in her pillow.

What was the point of being so bloody brilliant if it meant an eternity of solitude? She wasn't artistically tortured, Bellatrix didn't quite count. She had no aspirations to one day publish a masterpiece, so really going solo wasn't an aspiration.

Her wallowing in self-pity was interrupted when she heard the clicking of stilettos, loud on the wooden floor. Her life had really gone to the dogs when her only friend was a dye-freak wannabe witch.

"Hermione, we need to talk," Gretchen declared as she trudged into the room. She kicked off her heels before throwing herself on the bed next to Hermione. "It's about your hair - it's gone too far!"

Hermione groaned. "I thought you were going to talk about my current state," she mumbled into the pillow.

"That too, but the rat's nest you got going on is really getting out of hand. There is a reason why shampoo and conditioner are our friends," Gretchen said. "I keep expecting the Smurfs to pop out of it," she added, pulling a hairbrush out of her bag.

Hermione lifted her head to look at her friend. "But Ron and I had survived so much! What sort of a person leaves after all that?" she asked.

Gretchen, currently sporting black highlights in her red locks, pulled at Hermione's hair, trying to brush out some of the knots. "Not to burst your bubble, but pity sex, no matter how you want to romanticise it, is still pity sex," she deadpanned.

Hermione ducked her head, trying to evade the hairbrush. "It wasn't pity sex!" she exclaimed. A short tussle of sorts ensued, until Gretchen finally gave up and dropped the hairbrush.

"You're right, it's more like the 'since-I-can't-get-the-guy-of-my-dreams-I'll-sleep-with-you-instead' kind," she stated.

Hermione groaned. This was so typical of Gretchen. "Gretch, please don't bring up He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in my time of need," she begged.

"Who? Harry Potter?" Gretchen asked innocently.

"You're such a witch sometimes!" Hermione snapped.

Gretchen rolled her eyes. "That's what I keep telling you," she said. "But seriously, it's been two months. You can't tell me that you're still hung up on that brute?"

Hermione rummaged under her pillows and the piles of scattered tissues, before spotting the crumbled letter that she was looking for. She handed it to Gretchen.

"I'm his best friend and he doesn't even think to tell me?" Hermione snapped angrily, sitting up.

Gretchen sighed as she unfolded the letter. "This is from his girlfriend, I'm guessing?" she asked before reading it.

Hermione made a face. "I think you mean fiancé," she said darkly.

She used the time that Gretchen took to skim the letter to try to flatten her mane of hair, but the friction from the pillow had made it all but static. Only a really good spell would save her now.

"Hermione, this is just a letter talking about how she thinks Harry is about to propose," Gretchen said. "Not a wedding invitation."

"Might as well be - Harry is so stupid, he really is," Hermione cried. "I mean, what's so special about redheads anyway?" she demanded.

"Hey!" Gretchen exclaimed, pointing at her own hair.

Hermione snorted. "It's not even your natural colour."

"Could be," the redhead defended, before turning serious. "Look, you're in a really bad place right now. You were dumped by your Jacob and-"

"My _what_?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

Gretchen rolled her eyes. "You know how Jacob was like Bella's choice if she didn't get Edward? Well Ron is your Jacob," she stated as though it was obvious.

"I had no idea you were a fan..." Hermione drawled.

"Angst, love triangle - are you kidding me?'

Hermione snorted, then her eyes widened. "Oh no, not that again!" she exclaimed. "You are so not a Jacob or whatever - that doctor guy was married long before you started stalking him."

"Firstly, there is a thing called divorce. Secondly, it's not stalking if he appears everywhere I go," Gretchen defended.

"Gretchen, him going to his practice and local grocery shop - you know, the one you travel _over an hour_ to shop at - is not him appearing everywhere you go," Hermione said dryly.

"That grocery has the best produce in all of London - and excuse me, maybe I get sick often!"

"He is a paediatrician!"

"So? I look practically twelve. If anything, he should be worried about being classified as a paedophile," Gretchen snorted.

Hermione just gaped at her friend before she started to laugh.

"I'm glad my relationship drama is so amusing," Gretchen drawled.

Calming herself, Hermione fanned her face. "Just promise me you'll never change," she asked, leaning back against the headboard.

"Only if you promise me that you'll get yourself out of this funk," Gretchen said. "I mean, maybe you just need to get out. You do know what that is, right?"

"Of course I know what it is!"

"Don't bite my head off! It's just that you hardly went out when you had Ron - and even less since he did you a favour and left," Gretchen explained.

"I don't think that going out will do me any good right now."

"Okay, how about you do something different then? Something you wouldn't normally do?"

"I'm not going to do something new just because I got dumped!" Hermione exclaimed. "I'm not your Bella Swan, so stick it!"

"I didn't say jump off a cliff or anything, I just said, 'different'," Gretchen said. "Even, I don't know, joining a knitting club is different, just... I don't know, something where for a day, you don't have to be Hermione Granger, the Wizarding World's smartest witch of the age - second only to Gretchen Wynter," Gretchen added under her breath.

Hermione snorted. "I'm not making any promises," she said as she slid down the headboard. "And second, my arse," she muttered as she turned onto her back, throwing an arm over her face. "Is it normal?" she asked quietly.

"What is?"

Hermione made a dramatic hand gesture. "Me feeling like... this. I mean, he's my best friend - I should be happy... Right?" she asked uncertainly.

Gretchen placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Maybe it's because you have yet to accept the fact that you're in love with Harry?" she ventured.

"In love with Harry?" Hermione scoffed. "No, it's not love... Love doesn't hurt."

"That's the dumbest thing you've ever said. You should go rinse your mouth out with soap!" her friend chided. "Hermione, sometimes love hurts. Sometimes it hurts a lot."

The young witch scowled as she mulled the words over her in her head. Love with Ron had been easy - perhaps fuelled too much by the unresolved sexual tension of their teenage years and a myriad of misunderstandings - but for the most part, it had been easy. What she felt for Harry was something that she could not understand. She was certain that it wasn't love - that childish infatuation had died long ago.

But why then was she feeling like this? Out of sorts and not entirely herself?

"Ever thought that this emotion is something you can't understand?" Gretchen asked gently. "Maybe it's something that you're just supposed to feel?"

Hermione had to stop herself from releasing a very unladylike snort.

"Look, just do something different for a change," Gretchen repeated as she stood up. "But first, get a shower and some mouthwash," she added pointedly.

Hermione grabbed her pillow and threw it at her.

/

"Do something different then, something you wouldn't normally do. She said," Hermione mumbled under her breathe.

If getting over your problems was that easy, then a lot of psychologists would be out of jobs. Grunting, Hermione leaned against the cool metal surface of the lift. "I mean, there's nothing wrong with me, right?"

"There's obviously a lot wrong with you, but broadcasting it in a lift won't solve anything," the man standing next to her said.

Hermione shot the pudgy man a glare, but after glancing at the rest of the elevator's occupants, she decided that perhaps thinking aloud wasn't such a good idea. Thankfully for him, her stop came. She was already running late.

"I know where you live, Chris," she muttered, edging her way out.

The pudgy man, Chris Peters, was from Wizard and Muggle's affairs. He grunted, "Better bring wine if you happen to stop by."

Hermione almost stuck her tongue out... but unfortunately, she was now the respectable Doctor Granger, whose in-depth research in magic would be a beacon for future generations. Well hopefully, there was no Professor Trelawney to know for certain.

You're late," Matt said as he fell in step with her, brandishing a mug of coffee from seemingly nowhere. "With extra milk for that creamy effect," he added, handing it to her.

Matt Stick was her personal assistant and was highly efficient too, after all a workaholic like Hermione needed someone who worked equally hard.

Accepting the cup, Hermione tucked her folder under her arm. "You're a godsend," she thanked him.

"The research you wanted is already on your desk," Matt said, "and just a heads up, Raven's here."

Hermione groaned. The universe hated her; it really must despise her. Of all days to deal with Raven Moore, today was not one of them. Even though she'd put a brave face for Gretchen, she was still feeling slightly under the weather - and the last thing you need while you're feeling low is some supermodel with perfect hair prancing around. Hermione wasn't a feminist, just partially, but even she had to admit that Raven made the entire female population look bad. She was the ultimate pretty girl with big boobs and no brains.

"I hate Raven," Hermione muttered as they entered her office. There was a filing cabinet on one side of the room, an overflowing bookshelf opposite it, and rolls of parchment stacked on her desk, awaiting her.

Kicking off her Manolo Blahniks, Hermione dropped her file and the coffee on her desk before slouching into her office chair.

"Because she's gorgeous," Matt said.

"No," Hermione denied. "Because she's dumb."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Come on..."

"Seriously. The other day, she went up to the lunch lady and asks for bottled H2O, so obviously, the lunch lady asks if she wants bottled water and you know what Raven says?" Hermione paused for dramatic effect. "'No, water makes me fat, but H20 has air so it's a better supplement.'"

"So she has her elements wrong..."

"No, Matt. That's taking stupidity to a whole new level."

"Okay, maybe... but even you have to admit that with hair like that, you'd get away with just about anything."

Hermione couldn't deny that. Raven had amazing hair; the kind that was always streaming perfectly behind her, even in the rain. It was probably the Veela blood in her.

A knock saved Hermione from having to agree, but her joy was short-lived due to the fact that the very object of their discussion stuck her head round the door, all of those full, luscious, blonde locks clearly visible as they framed her face.

"Hermies!" Raven began in a breathy voice, Hermione would bet her life that it wasn't her natural tone, "I've been looking everywhere for you," she gushed, slipping through the narrow opening with ease. Yes, aside from having ridiculously beautiful hair, she had to have the body of some goddess too.

"Well, here I am," Hermione deadpanned.

Her tone didn't deter Raven. "Hopefully being a busy bee," she cooed. She turned to Matt. "You're... Don't tell me...Erm, Hector?" she guessed, despite the fact that they'd been working together for three years now.

Matt was in his Raven-Awe phase and didn't even bat an eyelid at her mistake. "Nope, it's Matt, but that was a really close guess," he assured her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Anything I can help you with?" she asked the bubbly blonde.

"The question is what I can do for you," Raven said, giving her a knowing smile.

"Your help is always appreciated," Matt gushed.

"Matt, don't you have errands to run?" Hermione asked, annoyed with him. His Raven-worship was irritating her already frayed nerves.

Her PA shook his head. "Nope, none at all."

"Well, now you do," Hermione stated. "Go find your poise."

Matt rolled his eyes and left, but not before gushing over Raven several more times on his way out.

"'Poise'... Is that like an iPhone?" Raven asked with a smile.

Hermione blinked at her, waiting for the punch line. When none came she sat up straight in her chair. "Yes, exactly like an iPhone," she replied. "So, what's going on?"

"Well, I heard about your break-up with Roger-"

"Ron," Hermione corrected.

"Yeah, him, and seeing as we're such close friends, I wanted to come have a talk with you," Raven said solemnly.

The nerve of the woman! Really, like she needed any further reminders of the demise of her relationship.

"Thanks for your concern, but I've dealt with it," Hermione stated, her tone matter-of-fact.

"Really?" Raven asked, incredulous. "Hermione, you're walking around with this bizarre new hairstyle - you think that's dealing with it?"

"I've always had this hairstyle," Hermione said through gritted teeth, "and yes, really, so if that's all, I'd like to get back to work."

"Oh, well, it's not really that bad... just a little brush here and there, some conditioner-"

"Thank you for your expert advice."

If Hermione's snappy attitude bothered her, Raven didn't let it show. "Well, I still think you need this," Raven said as she walked around Hermione's desk. "It's okay," she said as she hugged her, all but suffocating her with Chanel No5 in the process. "If you need me-"

"I know where to find you," Hermione said as she untangled herself from the embrace.

"Actually, no," Raven said with a smirk. "See, I'm going to the States for the weekend, catch up on some rays while I'm at it."

"Oh," Hermione uttered.

"You should come too," Raven invited. "A tan would do you some good... and maybe a haircut too."

Hermione sank back into her chair. "Next time," she lied with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Raven shrugged, as if to say 'your loss', before sashaying her way to the door. "Remember, Hermies, no guy wants Miss-All-Work-And-No-Play," she reminded her before giving her a wink and with a flicker of blonde hair she was gone.

Hermione glared at her door before stretching out a hand towards her quill, only to knock it over. She imagined just stomping on it, venting all her frustrations on the defenceless stationary - but she resisted. Tantrums weren't really her thing.

Heaving a sigh, Hermione bent down, crawling under her desk to retrieve the errant quill. _Could her day honestly get any worse_? she wondered, exasperated.

"Oh, I'll just let myself in, she won't mind."

Hermione paused, quill now clutched in her hand, but unable to move. She knew that voice - she'd know that voice anywhere. She could feel her heart begin to thud in her chest, her mouth going dry.

"Hermione?"

Maybe if she remained deadly still, he wouldn't notice her and then he'd leave, Hermione thought hopefully.

"You do know I can see you under the table, right?" Harry asked sardonically. She could just imagine his face twisting into a wry grin as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"What? Of course I know that!" Hermione exclaimed as she made to stand, only to remember all too late that she was on her knees under her wooden table. She yelped as pain shot from her skull all the way to her toes, leaving her eyes watery.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked. Suddenly, he was crouched beside her, concern flickering in his green eyes.

Hermione reluctantly accepted the offered hand, crawling slowly from underneath her desk and allowing Harry to help her into her chair.

"Jeez, Hermione, do you want to bash that brilliant brain of yours or something?" he asked, his hand holding her chin as he searched her eyes.

She was still sore about her accident, so Hermione scowled at him, silently blaming him for her little mishap. "What are you doing?" she asked, annoyed with his fretting and the tingle his touch elicited from her face.

"I'm checking your pupils, you hit your head pretty hard," he answered distractedly.

Hermione slapped his hands away from her face. "You aren't a doctor," she reminded him. "Besides, I'm fine," she added stubbornly.

Harry leant back, perching himself on the edge of her desk and invading her personal space. "As stubborn as ever, you must be fine," he quipped with a lazy smile.

"What are you doing here anyway?" she asked him, trying to discreetly swivel her chair a few inches away from Harry's bothersome close proximity.

Harry hooked his foot on her chair, stopping her. "Hey, I'm your best friend, remember, no need to bite my head off!" he exclaimed. "And I was in the building so I thought I'd check in on you."

Oh no she got it. He was feeling sorry for her and thought to be all chivalrous and check in on poor spinster doomed Hermione. Well he was three months too late!

"Well, you can obviously see I'm fine, so your 'work here is done'," she said, sarcastically emphasising her last quip with air quotes.

Harry blinked at her. "My work?" he repeated incredulously. "Hermione, you're my friend that means whatever I do isn't some obligation... It's personal."

And now he had that wounded puppy look on his face that always managed to wear her down. Hermione sighed, feeling ashamed of her attitude towards him. It wasn't Harry's fault that she was feeling conflicted.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I'm just a bit distracted right now," she said. It wasn't a complete lie; she was distracted... In fact, the object of her distraction was just mere inches away from her.

Harry grinned, all forgiven as he grabbed her hands. "Nothing to apologise for, Mione," he said. "If anyone should apologise, it's me... I'm the one who's been a horrid friend."

Hermione smiled, never able to stay mad at him for long. "Absolutely dreadful," she added teasingly.

"That too," Harry agreed, before his eyes brightened, a sign an idea had just popped into his head. "We should do something, how about we go out for a drink?" he suggested.

"That would be lovely, but-"

"Great, because I know this brilliant club that just opened in Diagon Alley and-"

Hermione squeezed his hands to get his attention, breaking him off mid-speech. "Harry, I'd love to, but I can't," she told him apologetically.

"Oh." Harry looked surprised, even a bit crestfallen. "No problem.. I guess another time then?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course," Hermione agreed. "You could always take Ginny out for dinner," she suggested, gently prying her hands free from his.

Harry scratched his head, a stoic look appearing on his face. "About Ginny," he began, his eyes darting around to look everywhere but Hermione. "She kind of broke things off with me."

"What?" Hermione exclaimed, shooting out of her chair. That made no sense! Why would Ginny write her a letter, telling her all about how she was certain that any day now Harry was going to propose and whether Hermione would love being a bridesmaid if she was breaking things off?

"...Yeah sort of came out of left field, I wasn't expecting it," Harry's words brought her out of her musings.

And for a really horrible second Hermione actually felt giddy about the news. Then she saw the despondent look on Harry's face and immediately felt like a git for even rejoicing at his obvious plight.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry," Hermione cried sincerely as she embraced him.

Harry accepted her embrace. "Thanks, Hermione," he mumbled into her hair, squeezing her tightly.

Reluctantly, Hermione withdrew from his arms. "You're welcome," she said.

Harry stood as well. "Well, I should get going then," he said, but he made no move to release her arms.

Bracing herself Hermione stepped out of his arms completely. "Take care of yourself."

"Sure, same to you too," Harry said as he headed for the door.

It was only then that it hit her. "Harry, what were you doing here?" she asked him, curious. After all, he no longer worked for the Ministry.

Harry grinned. "Bye, Mione," he said instead, before ducking out her office.

She frowned. "Still the master of mystery," she muttered, taking her seat again.

She stared at the heaps of parchment awaiting her and grabbed her quill that had again landed on the floor. Yet even as she began going through her research, her mind refused to squelch lingering thoughts of Harry.

It would seem her day had just got longer.

/

Later that day, Hermione Apparated into her house, her jaw tightly clenched and her eyes murderous. Oh, what she'd do to have a good duel, to hex someone all the way into kingdom come. Throwing her bag unceremoniously on her couch, she flopped on the furniture, arms crossed over her chest. Never before had her small home creaked louder from loneliness.

Covering her face with her hands, she closed her eyes. She could always do work, that never ended, but she didn't want to. Not when her mind was racing and she was frustrated beyond words. But she couldn't imagine just lying here, falling back into her hobby of the last few days. Why was it that Harry had the power to send her world spiralling? One little thing and her perfectly balanced world would tip the scale and come crashing down like Dominos.

Was this how it felt like to harbour unrequited love?

Hermione snorted. No, she refused to believe that what had been a harmless crush , okay an infatuation, had turned into something more. Yes, she loved Harry, but like a brother... She was so going to jail. Hermione groaned. She hated this; she didn't want this.

It's a spell, she mentally consoled herself. This wasn't the first time she'd felt like this and she always managed to feel like her old self again once the feeling had run its course. This was no different, she just had to wait for it to run its course...

Suddenly, she stood up. "Merlin!" The outburst was so uncharacteristic of her that she stood stunned for a moment, eyes wide. Shaking her head, she began to pace.

"Okay, how about you do something different then? Something you wouldn't normally do?"

Gretchen had said.

Something different?

Now, in her current state, it didn't seem like such a horrible idea after all. Maybe she could take a walk in park? Immediately, she banished the thought. There was nothing exciting about that. Perhaps she could call up Lavender and casually ask about Ginny? Oh, Merlin, she was awful, Hermione thought as she walked to her coat closet.

Bet if she was Raven Moore, she'd been rejecting invitations rather than spending the night brooding over her own misery. In fact she was certain Raven was soaking the rays in California as she'd so aptly put it, whilst rubbing it in Hermione's face. Then again if she looked like Raven she'd probably even go sun tanning in the Antarctic... granted she'd freeze to her death but at least she'd be a beautiful ice sculpture...

Hermione shrugged out of her coat, straightening it out as she made to hang it. Something shiny caught her eye. She frowned as she peeled the glossy, blonde strand from her coat. It was Raven's, no doubt, from that impromptu hug.

Shaking her head, she was just about to dispose of it when an idea struck her. It was a ridiculous thought, pure lunacy. In fact, if caught, she'd be facing criminal charges and a likely stay at Azkaban... but what an idea it was nevertheless. It was dangerous, something not in a million years she'd have thought herself even capable of considering, let alone actually going ahead with.

_"Okay, how about you do something different then? Something you wouldn't normally do?"_

Again those words repeated in her mind.

It was unethical, that's what it was. But just this once... She could do something impulsive. She could do anything and no one would ever know.

Her heart was thudding so loud she was certain any moment now she'd cough it out her mouth. Even as her logical mind weighed the idea, balancing the pros and cons. Warning her of possible consequences the adrenalin was already rushing through her veins pumping her with energy.

She felt almost euphoric.

Quickly, before common sense came knocking back, she shoved her coat into the closet, the blonde strand curled around her finger as she rushed for her kitchen. She didn't need a book, she knew this potion of by heart.

**End Note:** I am unfortunately so busy, really it's tragic thus I had to divide this flashback into parts or publish it as a whole in June. That seemed pretty far off and I felt I owed it to the loyal readers to get something posted.

This chapter actually inspired this whole story, the idea of Hermione doing this spell and the consequences thereafter. The spell? I won't insult your intelligence.

I don't think Hermione would do something like this of course, but it's fiction and I took liberties.

Huge thanks goes to everyone who continues to support this fic, especially those who review- your words really get me inspired! Nearly 400 followers, for this little fic? Amazing.

And of course to my awesome Beta **Spinning Round on a Carousel**!

**Disclaimer:** I borrowed a phrase from Avatar: The Last Airbender, Book III episode 17. Also the definition Gretchen gave for love was inspired by a line in AU's amazing fic Blue in the Sky. I think that's about it but I could be wrong...


	9. Chapter 9

**Warnings:** Slight OCCness and subject matters sensitive readers might find offense? I don't, but I can't speak for everyone.

HRH

_Euphoria, my foot, _Hermione grumbled to herself two hours later, seated and nursing her fourth free drink. _What had she expected anyway?_ She wondered dully.

When she'd entered _Bewitched_ an hour ago, all eyes had been drawn to her. Her hair was pinned up in a stunning updo, a few stray tendrils framing her face, eyes smoky under the thick application of mascara and eyeliner. Her sheer white dress clung to her almost sinfully. It had a deep plunging neckline, a single slit on her left thigh and a billowing train. To be honest, it was more befitting a formal ball than a club - but tonight was supposed to be a night of changes. That's why she'd even forgone practical pumps and opted instead for outrageously high Christian Louboutins. She must have almost resembled some mystical creature.

Despite this, she didn't feel all that ethereal now. It didn't take a genius to realise that simply donning a new appearance would not suddenly erase all her problems - and Hermione was a genius, so that point was even more pronounced. Yes, she'd felt elevated, ecstatic in those few moments when she'd stepped in and had all eyes on her. It had felt like a dream and had been a beautiful moment - until men began to zone in on her, moths to a flame. She'd tried at first to be demure and girlish, but then one smartass tried to grab her breasts. Granted, they weren't technically her's, but as a secret feminist, Hermione found it her obligation to set him straight.

Hexing him though, that had not been part of the plan. It had just sort of... happened. Then her moths fled like cockroaches back to their respective holes. Occasionally a drink would be offered, but she'd flatly decline. Maybe she shouldn't have adjusted the potion to last twelve hours. It seemed like a horrible waste now, to be drunk and stuck in someone else's body.

She was just about to lift her glass when she sensed someone taking the seat next to her.

"The usual, Harry?" the bartender asked jovially.

"Yup," came the dry reply.

Hermione's eyes widened as she stared at one of her oldest friends. "Harry!" she exclaimed. She hadn't seen him in ages, but now he seemed to have found her twice in one day.

Harry turned to her, his expression quizzical. "Yeah...? Do I know you?" he asked politely.

Hermione blushed. She'd completely forgotten that she was still under the effects of the spell and so as far as Harry was concerned, she was some blonde bombshell gushing over him.

He chuckled at her. "Contrary to rumours, I'm really not all that dangerous," he said and winked.

He winked? Hermione blinked, startled. Had Harry just... _winked_ at her? And that line -was he _flirting_ with her? Rather than feel satisfaction that at last Harry saw past his (unwanted) brotherly affections for her, she felt annoyed. Harry wasn't flirting with her; he was flirting with this beautiful woman whose body she'd stolen. And that was unforgivable.

Never mind she was here under a false identity.

Hermione turned away from him, her jaw set.

"Hey, did I say something to offend you?" he asked, craning his neck trying to peer behind the sheet of blonde curls Hermione had taken refuge behind.

"No," came the curt reply.

"No?" he repeated dumbly.

"Yes. No!" Hermione snapped, turning her narrowed eyes towards him. "Are you stupid as well as cocky?"

Harry's face had been confused before, but it now turned to an annoyed frown. "No need to throw insults. I was just trying to be polite," he bit out, still trying to retain some sense of cordiality between them.

Hermione was far from appeased. How dare he come here, looking outrageously gorgeous and confusing her, when she had been over him for years? Not only that, but make her feel all tingly inside?

"Really?" she asked in a snarky tone. "Are your eyes also looking down my top in politeness too, then?"

He snapped his eyes away from her bosom, looking flustered and irritated. And damn it all if he didn't look devilishly charming in that moment.

"Well, what do you expect, wearing such inappropriate attire?" he asked her angrily.

Hermione gasped. She'd never thought Harry would be the type of guy who'd justify leering at a woman by saying it was their own fault. Harry was supposed to be kind, warm-hearted and completely oblivious to such things. _What has Ginny done to you?_ She wondered, shaking her head in disappointment. This emotion, however, was quickly eclipsed by anger again when his words sunk in.

"How dare you?" she exclaimed. "You think just because you're some celebrity you have a right to look at whatever's on display?"

She didn't give him time to defend himself before she ploughed on. "Well, Harry-bloody-perverted-Potter, not every woman is susceptible to your brutish charms!"

Harry glared at her. "Wait a minute - are you an APH member?" he asked her, his drink long forgotten.

"A _what_?" Hermione asked, allowing herself to be momentarily distracted from her rant.

"'Avid Potter Hater'," he explained, rising from his seat. "Is this one of your group's ploys to get a rise out of me, and then blast me in the papers?"

The name rang a bell. Hermione remembered reading a piece of theirs, where they accused Harry of being a chauvinist pig and having a hero complex.

Harry must have taken her silence as acquiescence because he spoke again.

"Well, I have something to say to women like you-"

"'Women like me'?" Hermione asked, eyes narrowed.

"Yes," Harry confirmed. She saw a coldness in his eyes she'd never been privy too before. "Woman like you who think that just because they're miserable and alone with nine cats to feed because they've been dumped, they have the right to-"

Harry didn't finish his rant because in that instant, Hermione snapped. The sound of her hand connecting with his cheek sounded loudly in her ears, even though the club music was deafening. Harry looked surprised and Hermione had to blink furiously to prevent further embarrassing herself by crying. Instead, she spun on her heels, her shoes suddenly heavy as lead, and fled for the exit.

She'd only ever hit Malfoy before in a fit of complete anger, but Harry's rant - though completely unintentionally - had raised some harsh truths. Had she become one of those women who pretend to be something they're not, trying to fill a void in their lives? When had being Hermione Granger stopped being enough for her? And why did Harry have to be here, on this night of supposed self-discovery? Was fate conspiring against her?

It was only after she stepped outside that she realised the wet droplets on her face were not just tears. It had also begun to rain.

"How fitting," she muttered as she stood in the drizzle. She didn't even have any desire to seek shelter or Apparate home; somehow, a part of her welcomed this gloomy end to her evening. Maybe it was a day of firsts - perhaps she was supposed to embrace her newly-found spinster status. _It wasn't too late to buy another cat or ten,_ she thought dully, _or- _

"Oi!"

She turned, looking up, distracted from her self-pity. She saw Harry, striding purposefully towards her. He didn't seem to notice the rain falling on them.

Once he'd reached her, he stopped, eyes searching her face. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

"What?" Hermione asked, voice shaking. She'd thought maybe he'd come to arrest her for being drunk and disorderly; she was certainly acting like it.

He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the wet locks slightly. "I had a feeling this apology would be difficult," he mused ruefully.

Hermione sniffed, but she didn't know what to say to him in reply. She'd practically verbally abused him and yet here he was, standing in the rain, apologizing to her when she was the one that owed the apology.

"I shouldn't have said those things. It was uncalled for," he said.

"No, I was the one who was being rude," Hermione corrected, finding her voice.

Harry shook his head. "I shouldn't have been staring at your... your..." His voice trailed off as he gestured towards her chest.

Hermione realised that the sheer material wasn't really ideal for wearing when running out into a downpour. The dress clung to her skin and... Well, you can imagine the rest. She wrapped her arms over her chest, feeling self-conscious.

A cute blush tinged Harry's cheeks and Hermione fought the urge to smile. There was the Harry she knew.

"My girlfriend and I broke up," Harry blurted out.

Hermione glanced back at him. She didn't know what about this scene had inspired such a confession.

"Sorry," she said. She had nothing to say, but... It needed to be said.

"Don't be... It was a long time coming," he said with a shrug.

Hermione frowned. A long time coming? Harry and Ginny were blissfully happy as far as she knew; this break up was supposed to be a slight speed bump in their happily-ever-after.

"Oh - you two had a fight?" she asked. Well, seeing as Harry was confessing all, she might as well be a sounding board.

He looked over her shoulder for a moment before returning his eyes to her. "Not really. I think she got spooked, then tried to force me into something I wasn't ready for."

"Spooked?"

"Two of my friends broke up recently," he supplied.

Her and Ron, Hermione realised, before bringing her attention back to the matter in hand. "She feared nothing lasts forever?" she asked.

Harry stuffed his hands into his pockets and Hermione did not notice how the denim clung to his muscular thighs. Nope, she wasn't noticing that at all.

"No," Harry replied, suddenly clamming shut as if he only now realised that he was divulging personal information to a complete stranger – a complete stranger who had basically attacked him just minutes earlier.

"No?" Hermione prodded, trying to keep the eagerness out of her voice. Harry never revealed intimate details of his relationship with Ginny to her and Hermione had never pried. But right now, he didn't know she was Hermione... So it couldn't hurt, right?

He kept silent and she was beginning to resign herself to the fact that he would say nothing more, but then he surprised her once again.

"No," he began, letting out a sigh. "She was afraid I'd run to _her_."

"Her?"

"Yeah, my friend... The one who'd just been dumped."

It was on the tip of her tongue to correct Harry that it was actually a mutual dumping, but fortunately she was able to restrain herself, instead a myriad of thoughts assaulting her. Oh, dare she even hope? She wouldn't have thought Harry would have cared enough about the break up - after all, she and Ron had ended things months ago... Yet he looked guilty. And Ginny was worried that Harry would run to her? Surely as a friend, it was only natural he should comfort her in her time of need - unless Ginny had felt threatened.

But that was ridiculous. Her and Harry were just friends, after all.

_There was nothing friendly about how she'd felt seeing him early though_, her mind reminded her. She shivered at the thought.

"Damn, you're freezing your arse off out here!" Harry exclaimed. He quickly shed his jacket. "It's not the driest thing right now, but it's better than what you have on," he added as he draped the jacket around her shoulders.

Her numb fingers grasped the jacket and Hermione met Harry's eyes.

"This friend of yours... What is she to you?" she asked him.

He looked down at her, only inches separating them now. "She's-" he paused as if to consider his words, "-a very dear person to me."

Hermione felt like kicking him then. All of that and what does he say? '_A very dear person to me_'? She didn't want to be dear. She wanted-

_She wanted what she had absolutely no right to be wanting from Harry_, she thought firmly. She was about to thank him for his kindness and walk away, but when she looked at him again, the only sound she could hear was the pounding of her heart.

Harry was right in her face - if he dipped his head just slightly, his lips would collide with hers.

Hermione thought he must have realised this because suddenly his hands were cupping her face and he was searching her face for something.

"Tell me - have you ever wanted someone you had no right to want?" he asked her, his breath fanning across her face.

Hermione's throat was suddenly dry and all she could do was nod. Harry had no right to look at her with that intense gaze; there was no weapon in her arsenal to fight against that look.

"I look at you and I don't know you," Harry said softly. "My eyes don't know you, but something in me feels like I've known you all my life."

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat. Now was her chance, she should tell Harry the truth. Because even though she looked different, she was still Hermione; she had acted like herself and that's why he felt this familiarity with her.

"Harry-" she began, but he shook his head to silence her.

"Please, let me pretend you're her and I can be whoever you want me to be," he pleaded and it tugged at her very heart.

She should stop this charade before it got out of hand - but Harry was standing there, his hands on her face and she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted it so badly that it scared her. Maybe she should give herself this? Maybe she would finally expel him from her system.

But Hermione wasn't selfish. This was Harry and he was-

-kissing all reason right out of her mind. She said a silent apology to Harry even as she grasped his shoulders, letting his jacket fall to the ground.

* * *

Her thoughts were a confused stream of consciousness, dreams and thoughts weaving into a beautiful haze. She didn't want to open her eyes yet, enjoying the bliss she found herself floating in. For the first time in months, she felt all the tension she carried ebb away, leaving her nimble.

Hermione relished this feeling. She would have spent the rest of her life blissfully basking in it when she felt something nuzzling her neck.

She raised her hand, fingers combing through thick locks of-

"Hair?" she muttered, blinking her eyes open.

She heard a murmur at her shoulder that sounded like, "Morning," and froze. _There was someone in her bed, _she realised, eyes widening. She was about to have a heart attack when the memories of last night came rushing back.

_Oh Merlin! What had she done? _She wondered fearfully.

"Hey, I didn't know you had freckles," Harry commented as he brushed his lips over her shoulder.

Hermione's heart felt like it would stop beating. Raven didn't have freckles, but she did - she had forgotten all about the Polyjuice Potion! And how it was only temporary. The effects were beginning to wear off. She needed to act fast. Grabbing the sheet, she leaped out of the bed in a move that any athlete would be proud of.

"Hey!" Harry called from the bed. Hermione avoided his eyes, frantically searching the floor for her clothes. "Don't tell me you're in a rush to leave?" he asked her.

Having located her bra, clutch and dress, she made a dash for the door that she hoped led to the bathroom. Thankfully, it was indeed the bathroom and she let out a sigh of relief before locking the door and pulling on her clothes.

"Um, is everything alright?" came Harry's voice from the other side of the door.

"Everything's-" Hermione stopped abruptly. Her voice... Oh dear, her voice was no longer that sultry rasp.

"Huh?" Harry pressed.

Hermione chanced a look in the mirror. She stopped suddenly, panicking; not only had her freckles returned, but her face was morphing back too. There was no way she could explain to Harry how his one night stand went into the bathroom and stepped out moments later as his best friend.

Her wand! She needed her wand. Searching through her bag, she found it and prepared to Apparate-

-but nothing happened. _Harry's bloody wards! __She_thought darkly.

She tried disabling them, but no, nothing. They were airtight. _Damn Harry's paranoia and exceptional ward making skills,__ s_he cursed.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

Hermione gulped. What was she going to do? She looked around the surprisingly pristine bathroom with wide eyes until they landed on the window. She glanced to the door, then back at the window.

"Just taking a shower!" she called as she turned on the shower, drowning out Harry's words. Tucking her clutch bag under one arm, she unlatched the window and stared with trepidation at the ground below -_ Harry just had to be on the 4__th__floor..._

Hermione took a deep breath and rolled up her dress to her thighs. She placed one foot on the ledge, then the next until she was seated partially on it. She'd never tried Apparating while falling, but what other choice did she have?

Saying a silent prayer, Hermione grasped her wand and jumped.

* * *

_1 month and 5 days later..._

"Are you sure? Lots of women skip their monthlies," Gretchen pointed out, one hand playing with her newly platinum blonde hair. "Especially when they're harbouring guilty thoughts of tricking their best friend into sleeping with them. I mean, you practically raped him!"

Hermione glared at the other woman. "I didn't rape him - it was consensual," she snapped as she added a drop of her blood to the brewing potion.

"He didn't know what he was consenting too," Gretchen reminded her.

"Would you stop? I need to concentrate," Hermione said in irritation. She stirred the small concoction exactly 16 times before stepping back.

She wasn't sure what she expected - but a purple puff of smoke followed by an evil cackle definitely wasn't it.

"Maybe you did it wrong?" Gretchen suggested.

"And whose fault would that be?" Hermione asked her dryly. "If you weren't busy-"

The rest of her sentence was cut off when a stork – yes, a stork - flew into her kitchen and dropped an envelope on the counter before taking flight again. Gretchen and she exchanged looks before Hermione grabbed the envelope and took out a small note.

_It's a witch!_

"Most effective pregnancy test I've ever seen," Gretchen remarked, her mouth curving into a smile.

Hermione sank into a chair. Having the proof in her hands confirmed what she had suspected, but hadn't wanted to believe. Unlike most women, Hermione was very astute about the ins-and-outs of her body, so when she missed her period, warning bells immediately began to ring. Despite this, she hadn't wanted to jump to any conclusions.

She couldn't rule out stress, so she had waited it out. Yet days passed and still nothing.

She hadn't had the resolve to confirm it then, so she'd allowed more time to pass, until she realised that she was only postponing the inevitable. Once she'd decided to get proof, she'd looked up a spell and Gretchen, who had already known about her tryst with Harry, was intended as moral support.

Of course, the latter had instead decided to be the conscience Hermione didn't need. It was Gretchen's fault anyway, after all.

Before, when she'd decided on the potion, she had felt resolute. Now she simply felt tired. It was all too much. Harry didn't even know about their night of passion and now he was a father?

"… I'll make sure to use this spell next time I have a pregnancy scare," Gretchen was saying. Hermione looked up at her.

"Next time?" she inquired. As far as she knew, the only man in Gretchen's life was the doctor she avidly stalked. Not so much because Gretchen couldn't get a man if she wanted, but because she was unhealthily devoted to her obsession.

Gretchen nodded. "Wouldn't want to be pregnant with the love of my life's and my baby without knowing it," she replied.

"Gretchen, you've never slept with him," Hermione pointed out. "Come to think of it, have you ever even talked to him?

"Well, forgive me for not using Polyjuice to seduce my soul mate!" Gretchen huffed, crossing her arms across her chest. "Besides, I could be pregnant with the next Christ."

"That's impossible."

"It happened to Mary!"

"She was a virgin and holy," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

Gretchen arched an eyebrow. "What makes you think I'm not a virgin?" she asked.

Hermione shook her head, before turning back to the more pressing dilemma. Namely, being pregnant with Harry's child.

"What am I going to do, Gretch?" she asked meekly.

"Well, you could always barge into his and Ginny's wedding and announce the pregnancy," her friend offered.

"What?" Hermione asked, sighing tiredly. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"Don't be so quick to shoot it down," Gretchen warned her. "It's worked for plenty a female rapists in soaps before."

"This isn't a soap," Hermione said.

"Harry has a hero complex - believe me, he will want to do the right thing," Gretchen said.

"That's the thing! I don't want him to do this out of obligation!" Hermione cried. "I'm not going to trap him into something he'll later regret!"

"Hey," Gretchen began, placing a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder, "shouldn't you wait for Harry to decide before writing his story for him?"

"How can I tell him?" Hermione blurted out. "Where do I even start?"

"Right at the beginning?"

Hermione swallowed thickly as she allowed Gretchen's words to sink in. She owed Harry the truth. Yes, he'd probably be furious at her, but he couldn't be mad forever right? Eventually he'd forgive her. And having a baby with your best friend wasn't such a bad thing! Sure it didn't work for Madonna in that movie, but her and Harry could... create their own movie.

"I'm having Harry's baby," she uttered in awe. She really was about to have a baby and not just anyone's baby, but Harry's. What would this mean for them? For their relationship? Would he hate her? She didn't even know if Harry liked babies.

"Stop," Gretchen said firmly, bringing her thought process to an abrupt end.

"What?" Hermione asked, confused.

"You have that look on your face that says you're over-thinking things," Gretchen answered. "Don't. Just do it and let the rest unfold itself."

Hermione heaved a sigh, then pulled her mobile from her pocket. She keyed in Harry's number and pressed the call button. She could do this. She'd fought battles and lived to tell the tale. She could do this.

The phone only rung for a short moment before she heard it connect.

"Harry, I have something important to tell you," she began determinedly.

"Oh, sorry, this isn't Harry."

Hermione froze. _Why was Ginny answering Harry's phone?_

"I could get him for you, but he's in the shower right now," Ginny added when Hermione remained silent.

_Was this a joke?_ Hermione wondered as she tightened her grip on the phone. "You're at Harry's?" she asked before she could stop herself.

"Well, no, we're actually at my place," Ginny corrected. "Hermione, is something the matter? You sound odd?"

Was something the matter? Of course something was the matter! She hadn't factored for Harry being back with Ginny. Suddenly everything was different.

"No, everything is fine," Hermione replied hastily. "Listen, Ginny, sorry for the bother. I have to go."

"But I thought you said it was impor-"

But Hermione had already hung up. She put the phone down and sat motionless, staring into space.

"Well, I guess you'll have to call Harry later then," Gretchen said. "This isn't the kind of news that one can rely through someone else, so-"

"No."

"Yeah, I know it's-"

"No, Gretchen," Hermione repeated calmly, "As in no, I won't tell Harry."

"What?" Gretchen exclaimed, eyes wide. "That's the craziest thing you've said all day!"

Hermione stood up, ignoring the outburst.

"Hermione, you cannot not tell him," Gretchen said. "He deserves to know, so you lied to him and tricked him into sleeping with you and maybe you deserve an indecent assault charge... But you're close. He'll forgive you."

Hermione shook her head. "I can't... No, I won't make Harry choose," she said, adamant.

"It's not a choice if he doesn't get to choose either way!"

But Hermione had made up her mind. She wanted Harry to be happy and clearly it was Ginny who made him happy. She'd already used Harry once for her own ends; she wouldn't drag him into this mess too.

"Hermione," Gretchen said loudly, grabbing her attention. "This isn't the kind of lie you get away with – he's going to find out. Do you really want to hurt him like this?"

"I'm protecting him."

"The boy defeated Voldemort. Do you honestly think he needs you to protect him?"

* * *

"I should have listened, but I was so scared and I was already feeling so guilty," Hermione said as she furiously wiped at her face. She'd stopped fighting the tears a while ago when she began narrating the story to Harry.

"I'm so sorry, Harry... I'm so sorry." She just kept repeating those words as if they could somehow right what she'd done.

Harry for his part had sat quietly throughout her confession. She wasn't sure how he was taking her admission because she hadn't been able to look him in the eye the entire time. Instead, she'd cried miserably throughout the whole episode, her guilt and self-loathing shrouding her like a blanket.

"There's no need for any more apologies, Hermione," Harry said calmly. She dared to look at him, but his expression was blank.

"Here." He offered her a handkerchief which she gladly accepted, trying to compose herself. "All that crying isn't healthy," he added softly.

It was on the tip of her tongue to apologize once more, but she stopped herself, instead hiccoughing into her handkerchief.

"I'll go get you some water," Harry offered. He was gone before she could say anything more.

Hermione sat, awaiting his return. Harry hadn't seemed angry, but he wasn't exactly kissing away her tears and uttering endearments either. She wished it was one of the two - at least then she wouldn't feel anxiety on top of all her other emotions.

Harry returned barely a minute later, a glass of water in one hand and a chocolate frog in the other. "Some sugar will do you good," he said in answer to her questioning stare.

"Oh... Thank you," Hermione said softly, taking a long gulp of water before chewing on the sweet. Harry had yet to say anything about their situation and now it was starting to worry her even more.

"It was difficult dissecting what I felt for you when we were younger," Harry said, his voice eerily calm. "Back then lust, love and adoration were all sort of blurred. It was hard to distinguish them."

Hermione swallowed a bite of chocolate, trying to suppress the words ready to burst from her chest.

Harry wasn't really looking at her, though he sat facing her. His eyes were hard to read. "When I agreed to this, I did it because you were my friend," he said, his fingers curling and uncurling into fists. "I never expected to fall in love with you in the process."

Hermione blinked back tears. _So much for thinking that she'd cried herself dry,_ she thought as she used one hand to wipe absently at her cheeks.

"But I was wrong about so many things it seems," Harry continued. He seemed to be speaking more for his own benefit then hers. "Not just about the baby, but about my love for you."

Hermione stilled, feeling as if her heart might plummet into her stomach.

Harry glanced at her briefly before speaking again. "Because when I think about it, really think about it... I realise I must have loved you all my life." He paused to take a deep breath before releasing it slowly. "It's strange to love someone like that, because that love makes me want to hold you even when every fibre in my being is itching to throttle you for keeping this from me."

"Harry, I-"

"Hermione, do you know how it feels like wanting someone you have no right wanting?" he asked, cutting across her words.

The chocolate felt heavy and bitter in her mouth.

"Wanting her even when she is in love with your best friend and you're supposed to be in love with somebody else?" Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Falling in love with strangers because they remind you of her..."

He trailed off, his chuckle dry and without a hint of amusement.

"Harry, I'm so sorry," Hermione said.

"I know you are and I'm also sorry... Sorry for being a coward for so long."

They sat in silence once more. Hermione wasn't sure what to do with herself now that she'd finished eating the chocolate frog.

"We should go," Harry suggested after a while. "You're upset, you need to rest."

"What about the party?"

Harry shrugged. "It's not much of a party if you're crying, is it?"

Hermione stared at her fingers. "Harry?"

"Hm?"

She was afraid to ask, but she had to.

"What happens now?"

"We get you home, get you off your feet-"

"I mean with us," Hermione said, interrupting him. "What happens with us?"

He couldn't seem to look at her then. "Let's get you home," he said after a pause. "We can figure us out later."

* * *

**Author's note:** Firstly a massive THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed, such wonderful words! My Beta, **Spinning Round on a Carousel** , for such awesome work. Also to my story followers and Faves. We passed the 400 mark story followers! I still can't believe it, I'm overwhelmed really.

Well this chapter, you either hate me now or think, hmm that's different, I like it? I hope it's the latter. I really didn't want to write a cliche drunk one night stand plot. I get other readers may not like the idea of Hermione using Polyjuice, but can we overlook this? No need to burn a fic for slight OCCness, right? Yeah you can probably tell I'm nervous about the outcome of this fic. I honestly have no idea how it will be recieved. If it's anything I did work hard on it, this was like the 3rd attempt.

For once it's not so much that I'd love feedback, but more that I need it. I'm that anxious about this chapter.


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